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As I walked by her unmarked grave…

I had begun the same ritual.

To take up alms!

For a once lifetime of repent…

One  simplistic thought.

Life does not owe me anything.

I owe myself to life.

The dexterity of letting go and holding on?

Sharp as a hunter’s knife.

Ψ

What could it have been between yesterday and today?

What could have stirred me so?

Ψ

The

Same songs on the radio.

Wildflowers overpopulated…

No room to grow.

One sided conversations…

Then the silence of a tomb.

Air receiving dues when no other action will do.

A momentary lapse of being on guard.

When waltzing past your unmarked stone at the graveyard.

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