Friday, December 12, 2008

Scattered Stones

The sky scrubbed clean by wind paints the horizon as muted rainbow.

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As he brushes by, the palm frond ruffles his hair like an old friend.

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I rush out my front door, car keys in hand, to find the widening dawn. Mindfulness sweeps me with a wave of intense gratitude.

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Dependence and her intense vulnerability hit her over and over with the disbelieving gasp of icy waves.
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When we're gone, where do we go?

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