My Secret Dealer

I am walking home. I pass a house and hear music. I back up. Stop. Someone is playing violin; someone with skill. I stand, listen, and my heart fills up. It's like I have found my very own dealer. My fix costs nothing but a few moments. I am hopelessly hooked.

Finally

I stand in mid-yard under a clear night sky,

'Head tilted back like a child at the window of an ice cream truck,

After all these years,

After so much worry - I get it.

I do.

The stars are right.

They were always right.

They will always be there: my calm and plumb,

So why all the fuss?

Why all of the painful grating and roiling?

Just do the thing.

Have the fucking experience for crying out loud.

... ask for chocolate dip and tuck in!