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Under Gaze
I sit in the cool shade of the tree I park under at work. I’m probably foolish, but it seems to me that the leaves are moving in deliberate patterns, that the tree is gesturing to me with its arms, that my presence is not unnoticed, nor is it unimportant. I think about taking a nap, but a mockingbird wants to talk. I sit with my chin in my palm and listen to my own self. This is the biggest responsibility I’ve ever taken on, the biggest risk, this looming thing. Think I can do it? Guess I have to try. Are You going to help me any? Reckon You…
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Waiting For The Ram
I didn’t know Terry well, but what I did know of him I liked. He was gentle, good-humored, a careful listener, and had large, expressive eyes that watched the world without cynicism. I also knew that he was troubled, with a history of admissions to psychiatric wards and rehab facilities. I used to watch him and wonder how one so young could be so weary. Terry always seemed to be fighting to suppress a wince, as if his interior bruises were being palpated by an unseen and uncaring hand. And so while I was dismayed, I was not very surprised when I learned of his death by suicide. The day…
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For My Own Future Reference
I dreamed last night that I was in Norway, passing on foot through a small village at night, trying to find a road that I knew but could not name. I was nervous about slipping on the icy path, and I was burdened by something heavy in my coat and trouser pockets. People kept stopping me to ask questions or offer help — I presume, because I couldn’t understand their language — but I was unable to speak. At some point in the dream I arrived at a large cemetery and began emptying my pockets. I was carrying dozens of batteries, ranging in size from “D” down to “AAA.” I…