We listened to a version of the song Losing My Religion transposed into a major key, which happied it all up, brightened its mood like a sunny day, like yellow crayons, not maize, but sunflower. I said it’s a happy kind of losing now. She said sometimes losing is like that, shedding ballast so you can fly higher.  Like that song that goes if your heart don’t break you won’t be free. But freedom, I said, is just another word for nothing left to lose. And she said, you’ll always have your car keys.


About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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8 Responses to Paradoxical

  1. I liked this poem a great deal; I like how it was in the present and the past and how it scattered around all over between the two. It made me smile and made me sad. Effective. Universal.

  2. DD says:

    loving this… appreciating the prose lately -it happies me all up 🙂

  3. Whimsy Mimsy says:

    I liked this – your prose is just getting better and better. Prosetry 🙂

  4. joanna says:

    i second Kay here. 🙂 smiling, and sad. effective, yes.

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