A Resting Place

By alumbloom

Thu, 14 Jul 2005
  • 890 reads
 

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Anchored to this rotten floor by my aching bones I meditate on the
silhouette of leaves flitting vividly in the close breeze.Dying Flies
anchor their fuzzy bodies to the skin of my spaniel as she lies on the
cool grass next to me. Just as they anchor themselves to me. Wretched
sphere! Cannibal of the heavens! I came this far to find out that this
is not the way?

So please! Directions? Please!


Certificate U
Other
The Still Stars and the Flaming Door
Spiritual