not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Monday, July 23, 2012

it is inside the tender every day moment that the magnitude of life resides

we are made, not by grand sweeps of significance
but rather by small and ordinary gestures

Highlights and Interstices by Jack Gilbert 

We think of lifetimes as mostly the exceptional
and sorrows.  Marriage we remember as the children,
vacations, and emergencies.  The uncommon parts.
But the best is often when nothing is happening.
The way a mother picks up the child almost without
noticing and carries her across Waller Street
while talking with the other women.  What if she
could keep all of that?  Our lives happen between
the memorable.   I have lost two thousand habitual 
breakfasts with Michiko.  What I miss most about
her is that commonplace I can no longer remember.


  1. Five months back I started writing a one sentence journal so I can remember all the small stuff. All the little things like today when I went to the library and had lunch with my daughter. Other days it will be something small about one of my clients. When I first started it I didn't know if I would continue but writing one sentence every day is easy.

  2. I like the contrast between the striking and unexpected detail of the photograph and the expected poem that lacks detail. A balancing of some sort is going on here.

  3. yes.
    ties in somewhat with my words today. although my corners are both simple and more sinister....


"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))