Friday, December 27, 2013

 


Bar:



.... you never respond....and now these orphaned words will seek a homeland....much like a troubadour's song, lost over misty dale and valley...wandering, seeking, ricocheting --- and fading to a dull thump in the heart of a stout oak...or consecrated to the dust....

....much like all of us will be too, some day.

( the trouble Buddha said was, that we thought we had time!)




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