We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust our sails.(Bertha Calloway [?])
Monday, September 19, 2005
glorious but lonely sunsets
Sometimes when tears fall for one thing, they fall for all things... all the piled up, pushed aside, buried deep things. It is lonely inside this cemetery, even outside in the last of the sunlight. Without warning, with only the slightest provocation I cry for the people. for the pets. for the latest devastation. for you. for me. for what is and isn't and won't, can't be. for the unmended, the unmending... and the unmendable.