Friday, November 13, 2015

Yet I am.

.
.
So much seen.  So much done.  So many lost.  So much lost.

Music. It's often how I speak anymore.  A few things are on my mind and something else is digging it's way out.  For now just these.  Nothing too hard to handle, unlike me.  Mostly.





I know the point, but not if there is a point to the point.  There it is.  There is something at the corner of my eye, staying just out of focus.  I am not sure I wish to catch it, but that isn't always a choice.  The past, like a cat, will approach as it chooses.  Even as aware as I remain I can't always be sure what next.  Later.

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