Our masks, always in peril of smearing or
cracking,
In need of continuous check in the mirror or
silverware,
Keep us in thrall to ourselves, concerned with our
surfaces.

Carolyn Kizer


Approaching traffic....hearse passing.....older man in a black suit with dark sunglasses.........driving, smiling, laughing and talking on a cell phone....my radio on........ Axel Rose whistling to the tune of 'Patience'....

somehow it made me smile

I believe because it wasn't the usual image....one of a driver with a somber expression on his face ready for the grave himself.....He looked alive.....as though he should've been in a colorful, sporty convertible. And the whistling.....It hit me that the whistling was to the tune 'patience'.....death would have to wait.....It was a perfect, not a cloud in the sky morning.