There is a hole in my pocket

There is a hole in my pocket. I dare not place anything of value within it. I wonder now what may have been already lost. Have I been giving to the world blindly and do inadvertent gifts of charity count in the light of heaven?

My pants now represent a balanced struggle. Half of what I keep will possibly be lost and the other half will hopefully be saved to be placed upon my dresser in the evening. Does survival of the daily journey make these objects more special?

No, it simply means they survived the day.


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15 Responses to There is a hole in my pocket

  1. tealwinters says:

    I wonder if it is fate of the hand, or fate of the object, that has caused the seemingly arbitrary discard? Like the sock that escapes out of the drying, or the person that drops it on his way back from the laundromat… In any sense, thank you for following IndigoOpus πŸ™‚

  2. vwoods1212 says:

    I’m surprise for someone so organized and who thinks out everything you wouldn’t think about blessing your giving before giving! just saying. I’m not saying that there aren’t times you give without thinking about it, but consistent giving have more meaning than the random type and I have always been taught there are ways to go about it.

    My schooling is different from yours, so.

  3. This is a really cool piece of writing. I love your writer’s voice; it is strong and eloquent. I have a literary blog, so I admire great writing. Keep it up!

  4. If you stay at home, you might find your pockets more retentative. I hope I spelt that right, as you get older memories tend to become a little like pockets with holes in them!

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