Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter

Friday, August 05, 2005

Into The Solid

We are breezing into the heart
of a season, with the sound of
flutes from the wire
as background noise.
They are drum and pipes
and I am traveling through
my comfort zone with this
earful of all that I've missed.
It's been awhile, much like
forever and a day... when I go
there, where I go I'd want to
shout phrases of meaningful
sentiment... Aequitas! Then
name my places, here and Inverness,
Culloden, the Highlands, or Belfast.
We can follow a melody into sleep,
breeze here to there and through
the solid heat of summer.

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