And there, there squinting into dawns early light

Heart pounding out a staccato beat

Reverberating through the dense oaks

The acrid smell of mildewed leaves rising with every footstep

The feel of the moist air, already turning to steam with the suns first rays

  There, there he stood encircled in an endless universe of the mind

Over the next hill was home

And if his frail body would not carry him into that near sunrise,

  His mind and heart already had. 

He was Home and would rest in the bosom of the land he loved. JD







  • Yorke


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