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Memory Remember that day we sat in the open field? No? Well I must have been alone, thinking of you. I remember your presence there. The field went on for miles and miles, becoming a blur of brown, sienna, yellow ochre. When I stared at it for too long, I lost my balance in the waving grasses. I had to find the tree to right myself again. One lone stubby tree in a million miles of dreaming field.
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I remember the light coming from the left somewhere, because it struck the tree in a most magnificent manner. Its shadow stretched long and thin, finally fading into blurry little fingers. I don’t know the brand of tree it was, it was unfamiliar to me. Short, stubby, gnarly trunked, with large bushy leaves over little pods. Well actually, the pods and everything else must have been bigger than I remember. I was a very long way from the tree.
The sky was malevolent blue that day, with long rust-and- grey clouds sweeping sideways across it. A thin strip of pink on the horizon ga
Pour Me a Long One and We'll Discuss itTo be, and to keep being, despite worlds crashing down around you
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Scribbling in the margins, leaving the page blank, a stranger
Nothing exists in a vacuum, present your flawed warmness
You may save more than yourself; others depend on you to live
Do you see it yet, Brightstar?
Sunlight and moonshine in your eyes, the beat of your heart
Testify to your realness, to your philanthropic nature
You didn’t even realize, did you, that your words have weight
And that your soul is sea-worthy; write, teach, live, be more
More than scribbles in the margins
More than a footnote in the book of your own life.