They don’t matter, most of the days.
Don’t matter because we squander
them the same as water down
the drain thinking there will
always be more. The ones
we remember are for good or bad
reasons but the truth is,
most days are really both.
Most days are a mix, same
as a whole life,
water from the tap
drawn from a source unseen.
Drink.
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Categories: inspiration, poetry
Bill Pearse 
Cool! This goes into my Daily Wisdom log I keep during an annual Nov/Dec process of establishing focus in the coming year. Kickoff was last night – you’re hitting Day 1. (It’s a group thing – this year’s banner is “Clear the way for 2020 vision” – clarity bound to include a mix of good and bad!)
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Nice! Love that Jazz and happy to be part of your daily wisdom! Thanks and good luck with that…good time to start…why wait?! Bill
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The city might be moved; but not the well.
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Ha, good! So loved your piece on Portland from earlier this week. Bit of an ear worm, if there’s such a comparison here.
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Thank you, Bill, though an ear worm sounds painful
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Not if it finds the right canal! Ha!
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always the ebb and flow
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Two cartoon characters sitting next to each other at the bar, Ebb and Flow.
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married for 73 years
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We could take this a lot farther….
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I think this is a fine poem.
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I just started a game of Monopoly and it’s going to be a long night. HATE this game.
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Haha! Win one for Bernie and then give it all away End this Capitalist Nightmare!
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I took it all with the red properties. Ironic, they were “red.”
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we play the Upstate NY Edition — no free parking, more Go To Jail spaces, etc. Instead of hotels, you buy vape shops and rehab clinics.
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Ha ha ha ha. Super!
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