Nobody's creekbed

songs, prayers, poetry, stories, art, photographs, moving pictures, fondnesses, tall-tales and meditations

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The Anterior Insula and Hwy W

Saturday, April 09, 2011

your world of ideas
a house you lived in alone
old breathing home
seasons many
seasons many

"I came to be here. I came to be."

know you you
for few do

voices come and gone
and come again
a visitor at the end of the path
coming toward
a smile to raise the night
and then others
rooms made light
work remembered
stories made full
memory new

"I will outlast little but what is true."

know you you
know others too

quiet and full
at great length
a movement across field
up along the ridge
and out
toward sun
a sense of completion

"I was standing right there when I saw you."