Sky Box


Since I’ve stopped drinking, my mornings have gotten much brighter. I’m opening up and feel like things are finally growing in the right direction. Underwater, everything is good. While the sun was rising, I saw a few of the early Bluejays that have made their way to Brooklyn to capture the fresh blooms of the trees outside. There is talk on the radio about recovery from Sandy – and even in my limited scope, I can see the after-effects. A huge tree stump where a great great cousin of mine must have stood, is all that remains. It reminds me of the book I was reading during the winter. I wish the stump outside had a chance to grow as I’m doing, but perhaps I’m going to take over his aging process. It’s hard not to look at the future when you’re engaged in present moments, so I try to focus on the mellowness of the water below and look forward to the day when they might come and take these toothpicks away. They check on me each morning, which helps. Looking down, they say “Frank, you’re growing!” I know I’m growing, I don’t need people to tell me that, but it’s nice to hear. Just knowing that there are others thinking of you sometimes provides incentive to expand.


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