always a stranger
fiction
edward w pritchard
These ceaseless rains dissolve the moorings that anchor the tree roots supporting the vegetation that hold our world together. Any gust of wind will blow away the entire society that cradles us all.
Hide underground as an Egyptian piling treasures and consumables for luxurious after lives. Smile at death as a Hindu curious about future transformations.
Always a stranger just passing through. Feel the vegetation creeping up the walls of the temples guarding up the certainties of before.
The rivers are at the flood about to inundate everyone in our Valley. Arise, arise, head for higher ground.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment