crickets buzzing, people buzzing;
a thousand lives being told, a thousand hearts beating. the beautiful chaos of strangers; hurts and fears all tucked deep into our pockets. for one evening, in this moment, we join at the river; searching for peace, searching for escape; escaping the search for all that we know is missing. if for one evening we can just be, just exist together in this bursting-at-the-seams experience we call life. we sit, we dance, we lie each in our own spaces, the music lilting into the evening sky and disappearing down the bridge; we stare into nothing, the children stare at us and each other. the water moves along, carrying our melodies, carrying our prayers, carrying these memories and whispering our stories to the next shore. and soon we all move along just the same.
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about the writer.“Words are only postage stamps delivering the object for you to unwrap” (George Bernard Shaw) past tense.
January 2019
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