(photo of a photo, Di Rosa gallery)
My head is filled with details, memories. The biggest picture has long been clear. When the pieces of life fall out of place then the sorrow moves in, other details fill the gaps; awkwardly they arrive, searching the surface. The future becomes both clear and uncertain. One realizes that they have known all along the nature of the thing they now face. The past shifts and reveals again the telling moments that one has ignored, minuscule events that were hid for self or another, of love. It is not unsurprising, only insomuch that it took so long to appear. Though it might have just as easily gone otherwise, also. This life is made up of connected or lost moments and choices, not all yours.
Oddly, I feel good, even relieved. That, of course, will pass.
In time, I will celebrate a new thing, find a former self and let life merge. The season will still move through the valley towards the sea. The past will become the past.
My left hand will become a little bit lighter.
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