Friday, November 18, 2005

No, I don't let go of anything. I take it all right along with me, all spiraled up inside the shell house on my back. This way, I can crawl back up in there any time I choose and try on the old days and see how they fit. Today I puttered around and found the squeak of my next door neighbor's swing, the cricket chirps from summer camp, the night sprinklers on my college campus, the chime of my dad's grandfather clock, and thrush's mournful song, all scattered beneath the clutter and dust.

The fit was bittersweet.

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