I hear birds chatter through a haze of self calling forth name and form.
They were here before and after me.
A sound springs forth through empty space closing the door of memory. In that moment, dropped out of time, I have no need to be.
Originally published: Jul 2004
I hear birds chatter through a haze of self calling forth name and form.
They were here before and after me.
A sound springs forth through empty space closing the door of memory. In that moment, dropped out of time, I have no need to be.