| The Art of Memory Each morning I walk to school before predawn numbness yields to the articulate frosts of January. Life is exquisite in the rain, sharp in its poignance- welcome to me. Each day i walk past houses; familar faces and vague memories of childhood forming a collage of reminiscence that bites me to the core. Walking through the corridors of actuality stumbling as the lines between then and now blur fact and fabrication meshing into one glorious dream I remember and I fade. ~Vicki Somers 2 January 2003 |
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