beginnings and endings
"And I'll know my song well before I start singin'" - Bob Dylan, "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall" Charleston has been locked into a kind of paralysis -- tonight, sitting on the brink of a rare snowstorm. Devoid of wheels and feet, the roads and sidewalks are just what they actually are -- grey plaster. The bravest finches -- foraging and flittering just yesterday -- are now nowhere to be found. This little corner of the world is quiet, bracing. I've been quiet, too. Maybe no more. Mary Oliver would leave pencils in the trees along the trails she'd walk, so that she'd never be without one. Little invitations, reminders. On this, the first day, we see more clearly than before, perhaps, that there are no first days. A hidden pencil writes: Of The Empire We will be known as a culture that feared death and adored power, that tried to vanquish insecurity for the few and cared little for the penury of the many. We will be known as a culture that t...
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