Thursday, April 3, 2014

From My Notebook: The Past



The corpses of butterflies long dead circle in endless whirlwinds, piling into corners of the abandoned school yard.

The swing set creaks to life, rusty from years unused. Invisible legs pump empty seats, back and forth. Back and forth. A lazy time kept to the rhythm of the lifeless skies.

Silence paces up and down the cracked sidewalks; and loneliness walks beside, holding hands. The grey moss underfoot swallows up all echoes of footsteps in its thick, sleepy carpet.

Memories here do not let go.


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