Saturday, October 19, 2013

Green Flesh

The moss, vibrant green flesh clutching the stone walls, she speaks to me. And I want to cry of exuberance, we've haven't met in so long. But I've found you at Kenilworth. And I am overwhelmed with content and hate that our reconnection was brief.

I sat up in one of the stone windows overlooking pure Earth and lost track of time in my own thoughts of nothing. A new life is within me, a freshly gained new set of eyes; it was a perfect moment for a gasp of pure air.  

But first came Shakespeare. His birthplace and then his burial place, here. We were uprooted by a wedding, and couldn't go in the church as originally planned, but saw some very happy and beautiful faces arrive and walk the path under the trees the of color of crisp golden apples. 

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