Everything That Happens Can Be Called Aging
by Carl Adamshick
I have more love than ever. Our kids have kids soon to have kids. I need them. I need everyone to come over to the house, sleep on the floor, on the couches in the front room. I need noise, too many people in too small a space, I need dancing, the spilling of drinks, the loud pronouncements over music, the verbal sparring, the broken dishes, the wealth. I need it all flying apart. My friends to slam against me, to hold me, to say they love me. I need mornings to ask for favors and forgiveness. I need to give, have all my emotions rattled, my family to be greedy, to keep coming, to keep asking and taking. I need no resolution, just the constant turmoil of living. Give me the bottom of the river, all the unadorned, unfinished, unpraised moments, one good turn on the luxuriant wheel.
