Was there a memo? Did I miss the call? Was there a text, or a podcast?
Because the world has started spinning backwards and everything I know has become something I don't recognize, and that includes my own visage. I got no warning, no yield sign, no notice of a dangerous current that might turn into a rip tide, no notification that the lifeguard was not on duty and I was therefore swimming at my own risk.
Could it possibly be that Chicken Little was right?
Goosey Poosey, Cocky Locky, Henny Penny and even that sly old Foxy Woxy will no doubt be visiting me soon. Who knows, Elvis and Jim Morrison might make an appearance as well. I'll be ready for them all, wearing my new jacket and happy to serve them afternoon tea while we sit within my padded walls.
Because it's safe there.
2 comments:
I don't know what's spinning your world, but your wonderful writing is still as steady as ever. Pad your walls and pad your heart--until it's safe to come out. And if you do see Elvis, give him my love.
That's weird...some crazy things are going on around my neck of the woods too!
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