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Where they do not lay

November 11, 2008

Uniformly mowed grass punctuated by tufts of flowers and flags seem barren reminders of what we dream still is real. Date of birth and a tag of names connected by rows attach meaning to  memory to history to what will not be the future. What is without is more than what is there and its a lie we believe because we can.

The sun is low over the hill and its light only reflects warmth that I can feel, alone. Alone for the living. Whatever awaits is  not earth and sky but nothing and never and not.

Whats left is what you can dream up inside your head when you shut your eyes really tight, or try to dream of at night. Sleeping, the most likely culprit, isn’t some magical conduit to what had come before. There is only the after and the reminder that the sun is only for me.

3 Comments leave one →
  1. November 11, 2008 3:52 am

    I wish I could copy and paste your stuff to my blog! (Not steal it, just post it on my blog with your name), ’cause I think everyone should read it! You are awesome!

  2. November 11, 2008 12:45 pm can link me if you want…just cut and paste the entry to your blog-o-roonie…like a link? Clearly you should be able to do that…but if not, switch on over to wordpress cause its easy.

  3. November 14, 2008 1:55 am


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