I saw you again, you old trickster coyote, down on the cemetery road.
Moving like water, swift through the long grass, trouble in your golden eyes.
I already know all the news you want to give; I’m sick of your generosity.
The world spins, no matter what you do.
Sometimes the real magic is in hanging on.
Dawna Johnson - 1923 - 2007.
The best swimmer,
the wildest of 3,
the final sister.
Thank you for suggesting authenticity...
it has helped.
bs
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
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4 comments:
Woah.
I feel a need to comment
on my own post.
It almost needs a shot of Bette Midler as Rose, sobbing that phone booth and wailing, "Where did everybodeeee go..."
In spite of possible current appearances to the contrary, I have neither fallen off the planet (or the wagon....)
I'm just on the tiniest
little hiatus from joy.
bs
Whatever you're 'on' dear BrownShoes, it's good to have you back in the land of writing. Thanks for your several comments on my recent posts.
...FossilGuy...
Very glad to hear from you
Glad you're with us...I've missed your words.
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