Blank, white paper

stares at me,

sitting here eating a

left over Subway sandwich,

reading Sky Bridge by

Laura Pritchett,

avoiding my writing commitment.

This book surprises me,

makes me think of my students,

some poor, trailer housed,

gun toting, hard scrabble,

simultaneously smart and ignorant.

Their idea of rich includes

any house over 2000 square feet,

stylish, elegant clothes, land.

My brain swirls thoughts, images:

What can it all mean, this life?

Joy, a hurting beauty?

Looking out the windows,

listening to the West Texas wind,

I ask myself again:

What can it all mean?