silence and noise…
The elevator fell two floors. Thank God
no one was riding this morning. But here’s
something strange –
when they pried open the doors the Muzak
was still playing, can you believe that?
And of all the songs to be playing at that
grand moment of opening? Get this –
Angel Flying Too Close To The Ground.
The experience evidently so shook the maintenance
supervisor that he began to weep, refusing to
cross the threshold to assess the damage.
Known in the building as a famously strong man,
he was inconsolable. His wife came and led him
home. She is such a small woman, almost a bird.
Rumor has it she cheated on him and now he’s
broken. Its strange what impugns our silence.
How is it that your words come almost always come at me in a way that hold a mirror up to the real me and the ache of glory that accompanies that?! . . . Grateful, as always.
Sallie, equally grateful you stop in from time to time…
Wow. My heart fell two floors with that last stanza, John.
Thanks, Mark…
Ah, yes. What impugns our silence. For me last week, it was hearing a grandson play a Chopin ballade on my father’s piano… thanks for this usual loveliness. Loveliness that pokes me hard.
Diana, that sounds more like an elegant intrusion…or grace.