Monday, December 31, 2007

A year.

Sunrises. Sunsets. A year. Measured by hours, minutes. Seasons. Passing of dear ones. Old rose leaves release their memories. New bubbles of still, fragile light.

What did you take from me, what did I learn from you.

"And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance"

- Tony Arata