![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rejectomorphDays just keep passing, as though they were supposed to. I keep losing track of them, as though I had no attention left to give them. It does seem that I'm running out. I seem to remember seeming to notice more in the past than I do now. Tuesday I was surprised when I looked into the back yard and saw that one of the pokeweeds had collapsed across my chair and almost entirely hidden it. It must have happened during the rain.
Now I can't remember when the rain was, or the last time I looked out into the back yard. If it's not something I do regularly I just don't recall it. It's like the vegetables that are probably rotting in the drawers in my refrigerator. I don't see them every day so I forget them. Because I forget them I don't go looking for them. Vegetables that enter my house are doomed. So, apparently, are days that enter my life. It's an odd thing to have happened and be happening. I wonder why I haven't noticed it?
Here is a song from 1956. I don't remember yesterday, but I remember being in the den of our house in the hills, sitting in a chrome chair with the gray, ice-like back and seat, at the chrome-legged table with the Formica top that matched the upholstery, and listening to this song on the radio. I liked it. I still do.
Now I can't remember when the rain was, or the last time I looked out into the back yard. If it's not something I do regularly I just don't recall it. It's like the vegetables that are probably rotting in the drawers in my refrigerator. I don't see them every day so I forget them. Because I forget them I don't go looking for them. Vegetables that enter my house are doomed. So, apparently, are days that enter my life. It's an odd thing to have happened and be happening. I wonder why I haven't noticed it?
Here is a song from 1956. I don't remember yesterday, but I remember being in the den of our house in the hills, sitting in a chrome chair with the gray, ice-like back and seat, at the chrome-legged table with the Formica top that matched the upholstery, and listening to this song on the radio. I liked it. I still do.
