i stole these flowers & gave them to a 2-year-old toddler. the inscription on the tomb stone did not say whether it was a boy or a girl--the first and middle names were given in initials. i saw a little boy, upbeat with wild eyes, oblivious to death the moment it ripped him open to inhale his soul, to lift it from the destruction & darkness of war in a foreign country.
half a century later i gave him these flowers & wished him well. here, in my hometown.
Beautiful sentiment - take a look at Sue Gibb's piece entitled Individual and my Day 59 piece (At the Edge). For some reason, we all indulged in sense of loss today.
ReplyDeleteWow. I'd like to believe that he's smiling. And Steve, maybe it's one of those days where our minds travel the distance to meet and create. I don't know.
ReplyDeletei spent a long while in front of his/her grave and there's really more to tell, but i feel it's better to keep it private between him/her and me. ah.
ReplyDelete