orange blossom night

What do you do when it comes upon you suddenly after dinner? Or no, maybe not suddenly, maybe thats why you have been slightly “off” all day. Spaced out. Distant. Quiet. And then the warm Arizona air scented with orange blossoms sweeps by you as it cools in the night and the tears come, un-summoned, and you see the fathoms, the miles of darkly lit water below your boat. Why is it that I can only see the depth of this grief sometimes? I am thankful that I only see it sometimes, that its not there, a bottomless ocean beneath me every day. But on these days, on these orange scented evenings when the tears come, what am I supposed to do? It is hard, learning to just sit silently and feel the rocking of the boat.