10/8/19

Today marks two months.
I always choose a fitting time to visit.

On my walk today, I found a marble.
A white opaque one with a blonde streak on one side.

It's good mental exercise to think about what this marble reminds me of.

Rolling them.
Gazing through them as if they are a spyglass into another universe.
Holding them.
Sliding on them.
Losing them.

White and glittery.
Cratered.
Orange tiger's eye.

I think about knocking them out of a circle, and what that circle might represent.

My head-losing one of the many, and if there are any to spare.
If "spare" is the correct term because in bowling, (another rolling ball game), to get a spare means that some have toppled over and you've successfully knocked out the remaining few.

This is only one marble I have here, and I'm walking around Ephrata with it.
What else do I remember about marble games?

I remember the marble game my grandparents had in the living room.
I would build connecting tracks, like the exit ramp of a parking garage.
They would fall down the hole at the end of each slide until they reached the bottom pool with the other descended marbles.
I would drop multiple marbles down at the same time to see which ones would reach the bottom first after clattering and intersecting with each other.

I don't feel the need to address that this memory of a toy reflects my current interests, conflicts, and worries clattering and intersecting.

I did anyway.

Before I know it, I'm pressing the white marble with the blonde streak into the dirt in between your headstones.
Confused about my offering, I deem it safe.

One level-dropping marble, spurned from its circle is now fixed in space.

Maybe it's one less thing for me to worry about.
Reservation about commitment.
Feeling concerning UFOs and UVOs.
My ability to keep a succulent alive.
If I'll forget you.
If I'll forget about the possibility of forgetting you.

What's the point value of a marble that has been excommunicated from the street and pressed into the dirt?

Does anyone win this game?