Everything Dies

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Standing on a cool green bank

watching a bowed stream move

through the shoal toward a far-away

sea secure in it journey’s end, endless,

rocky weather worn and grained.

Across it a Willow grows, filled with nimble

squirrels searching for food; brown nuts

cracking, fish splashing.

These are the sights and sounds of my

childhood, skinny legs running, torn breaches,

runny nose, toothless grins, and scraped shins.

Hiding beneath the ledges of caves, fearless,

trusting, happy days in the fresh clear air;

remembrances of these days hidden behind

a fog of despair. Childhood forever lost.

Your joy did not last your voice is no longer a

pleasing song; life has frozen your senses; your

soul. Soon your sweet breath of life will float

through the air, everything dies; your days are few.

©2015.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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3 thoughts on “Everything Dies

  1. Nice. I’ve often talked with his lordship about how his bad memories from the past keep him from remembering the good ones. He can’t see through the fog either. I worry that his inability to come to terms with his alcoholic father is going to leave him a bitter man in the end.

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    • I don’t think it is a matter of coming to terms with it; I don’t believe we have too. Yet, with that being said, for myself I continue to find reason for the actions of the past. I know that I cannot change anything by dwelling on the past, they are all dead now; my parents, my sibling and if they were alive they would not care nor change. I do know that I have gone beyond trying to break into that circle that refused to let me enter. I do know that being who I am is from my experiences and survival, therefore I continue; I write to survive. Thank you for your kind comment and may both of your day be a fruitful one. Ann

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