Half of everything and anything…

Half empty – half full, in an eight-ounce glass

it’s still four ounces either way; I never saw

much in optimism because for some, myself

included, I was raised to be motivated by

what people call pessimism, but it is much

more like suspicion and humility – I learned

to be tentative and trust the bird in the hand

instead of the two in the bush; it was a life

without shame because it always seemed

there was ample justification. It was my own

mother’s hard lived life which taught me to

enjoy the dance because the partner will

one day be gone, careful with drink for not

all spirits cheer, spend when you have for it

will be gone soon enough either way. She

learned from her own mother who lived a

hard life as well, but with grace it seemed

for I never heard of her woes, her crushed

dreams and I wondered if she even had

dreams – she had to have dreams to live

with such poise; for her there was always

light beyond the darkness, but for mom

there was darkness beyond the light.

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