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Letter #20

June 24, 2012

no time for this.

 

February:

flurries dot  the air second by  second,

settles  like cold lashes on the steaming pavement

the lucky ones stay virginal on the hills, playing

hide and seek between maternal  trees

 

but many powder the asphalt

brilliant for a time until the wheels

score across, again and again

and where is mercy?

“that’s life”,  they say

“nature”

platitudes, like mud

 

and I beg to differ.

winter is not forgetful. nor forgetfulness.

winter seethes.

memories , like mud

stains its pages.

not sand, but snow- Winter is our hourglass.

 

and will we remember, winters from now?

“you’ll miss me” you say, as it runs out.

I’ll   miss our pain? I wonder,  through gritted teeth.

I’ve seen this,

winter after winter. seen you melt away.

don’t.

there’s no time for this.

I promise,

summer will forget.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

( some recent drawings)

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

 

 

Also, in other news, a few days ago I met Janeane Garofalo  at the store  I work at.  My life is complete.

 

 

 

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