Monday, November 11, 2013


A few strangers
Memories like leaves scatter,
Is that me in that picture from years ago?
I used to believe that there were many intriguing things that I could know --
Having entered the roaring blizzard of silence and endlessness the pursuit of knowledge became a greed to forgo,
In the middle of a field whose perimeters are only vaguely perceived, in the shade cast from a massive boulder, dropped by an ancient glacier, there lies the last patch of slowly melting snow.

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