slither and tick.
the clock swings.
“the older you get, the faster it goes”, he says.
i understand what this means.
he’s had a full lot of laughter in the near sixty years he has been.
way too young to be thinking about such things. older than some. including most of his family. he’s been ready, it seems.
we are the type that welcome death as she sings, leaning-in to tuck us tight in sleeping ground. to be eaten and become “part of things”. i agree and welcome life also as part of these things. more and more it seems.
his mind is going and he watches it, laughing again.
they are both in such pain. i feel helpless,
and branches quiet the sky with a dying of wind.
written oct 2, 2018
image: me before sunset at domboshava, zim