A Note on Containers of Time & The Death of a Blog

18 Sep

for Mandy

May the streets always treat us as sweetly as they did that final trip with Mom

before she left this mortal coil calling out- screaming out love- and then her

spirit went flying high as a kite at an empty beach staring right back is the

sea just passing through the states spreading the ashes of our other mother

across this spirit circus caravan sleeping in booths waking up to blue sky-

what else would you want?

 

Gravel crunching and a jug of rain water- the first

summer rain- wash your feet, hair, and self in the

keys to the rain that comes in a box wrapped

up in ribbons spinning in the breeze. A chorus

of frogs tonight a new eternity, a new morning-

yet still missing those train whistle

harmonies

and concerts upon

islands.
Walking Mom’s dogs in the dark now-

composing this in the rain-

and me and you have been lucky

just ducky,  and we are talking

of new titles-

Adventures in Duck Country-

for the new blog for this

blog is dead…

this is the death of a blog-

silence

is a

tune

only

 

played at night

along with:

stray cat screaming

love

coyotes howling

bluenote

love

oceans

and

train whistles

harmony

jingle bells

and charms

falling off

bracelets

and onto

into the

guitar

twelve string

unstrung,

but still it

plays

the tunes

drifting ever

onward

trying to

endure.

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