Just enough of these
hours or maybe a few more
needed beforehand
things don’t end
just because they are severed
betweentimes a new
pattern takes shape
time sets itself straight
and lets free
the stones to fall
back down the hill
once again
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Stunning. This reminds me of Bill Cunningham's blog for today (the 28th--or maybe he wrote it on the 27th)-- also with the metaphor of stones and his Lili's death.
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Memory is most of what we are--
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