The Song of Little Things

Today, I received news from my Breton friend and his Belgian wife, whom I will see this week. I realize it has been thirty-six years that they have been my friends. I transplanted a plant I received from Danielle, I went for a walk by the river, I went to Mass, the Feast of the Cross. I catalogued new books for the library of the Maison du Peuple, I hung the paintings in the library with Stéphane. I met Nicolas’s sister at the pharmacy. It was a day made of little things. Sometimes one can sing the little things of life. The poetry of simple, fleeting moments is also the poetry of the Milky Way and the field of stars in which we drift.