Quietly the sun excuses itself, slipping away, leaving darkness to reign for a time. I have been here before, thousands of times, my mind, numb, maybe dizzy from the world spinning. Memories visit, then pass....all the things that should have been jab and jeer at all the things that were, and then file away back to their place.




I look ahead to the stockpile of tomorrows and realize it is a shorter stack every day....a once tall mound of old magazines--all have been read before, and they are thrown out one by one.