A guest at Viviana’s Christening sang “Mac the Knife.” The song now plays non-stop in my head this morning. That guest’s rendition blends perfectly into Bobby Darin’s classic.

Muscles from the base of my skull to the tip of my coccyx bone tighten like a drawn bowstring. Whether the ever-repeating “Mac the Knife” is the cause or the cover of this knotting  tension, I cannot say.

Why greet this day

with so weak a sound…

morning cricket?