Sunday, August 27, 2017

9882. JUST A FEW

JUST A FEW
These are just a few non-major things 
that I do  -  they can't all be important.
I stand by the tree sometimes, alone,
wishing to be let inside. As a kid, I
always had these recurring dreams
of the hollow oak at the tracks behind 
my house. The tree was real  -  it had
been burned, some years previous, and 
the fire had blackened and hollowed 
out a half-portion of the base, so that
you could, as a small kid anyway, get
inside it and stand there. Within the 
tree. I. Always. Wanted. To. Enter.

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