Sunday, December 23, 2012

Mourning




The dead begin 
to forget us 

call, answer
don't let go

stay under sky's 
umbrella

beat entreaty
speak like echoes

in the new 
and unknown

the strange pucker 
and kiss of stars



_

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what we are built for

in the days when the kids were smaller and my parents younger and they lived here  six months of the year                                   ...