“Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?”
― Mary Oliver
how many shifts has it been
how many married ketchups and quiet moments of sadness
how many big trays
how many tickets stabbed
how many laughs that we drank down like water
to sustain us
how many slights
how many sweetnesses
have we shared
in the last five years
This past Sunday,
you folded your apron neatly
rolled it up
and slid it across the table.
i’ll take it for now,
but someday i’m gonna follow you out
Out into the uncertain world of
the Good Work
we went to school for
you are setting out to do art
with people who have been discarded
people who struggle to make peace with their own minds
people who battle addiction and incredible pain
you are frightened, and justifiably so,
and you are brilliant, and ready
and so very loved.