useless

  There are times I think of mother with me, no more words to speak, just the holding. Folding into her heart, anything Precious, near though those pieces may be useless now: The pebbles under the sand, like old currency Or the rusty chain links creating palpable places passed over by a bird overhead beating…

distance never seperates

“When chance awakens love, everything takes its place in a man in obedience to that love, and love brings him a sense of distance…” -Antoine de Saint-ExupĂ©ry “Flight to Arras”   This was the first sentence upon opening my book today. Might I add that it adds a greater understanding to what I feel, and…