January 6, 2012 § 2 Comments

Some places seem otherworldly.

With the changing of tides and becoming of winter, the sky is decidedly the deepest and most pristine blue. The sun and moon barely notice my curiosity as they both appear simultaneously in the sky for days on end. They seem to be involved in a maddening chase, from which the sun invariably wanders off, whether from fatigue or boredom it is difficult to say. Yet their friendship remains firm, and he is as consistent with his return. The moon’s friendship with this crumbling planet is far more steadfast, as she stays despite the unsympathetic night; eternal moonshine, a mere reflection of her slippery friend. It is now for me to slip away with the hope that my return will be.

Wayward I go, as the children unearth leftover firewood to begin another game of gilli-danda, and the dandelions flower beside the gutter.

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