Tuesday, February 7, 2012

It rains every day here.


It rains every day here.  Today: the first drop fell and no others came.  I wanted to understand.  I could not allow for celebration.  I was alone without the falling swamp.  I was alone without the wolflike wind.  I was alone as I often am.  I see friends.  I see love.  I see children and dancing and Thursday night picture shows.  But I am mostly alone.  How does that make me?  Find me?  How does that breathe?  

I see a tree standing alone because you held my hand in yours and pointed.
Maybe that's what we can do for each other.  



Photo by Sadie.  Words by Dustin.

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