We are here

And then we are not here.

But while we are here

We hold the details of our lives really close.

But when we depart

These details are tossed to the wind.

Scattered like our ashes.

So what I’m thinking

Is maybe

We can play with the stuff of life more

( it’s not the eternal part of us)

Caught a breeze

Headed West toward the afternoon sun.

“““““““““““““““““““““““““`

In honor of my friend, Gary La Crois

His laughter a teacher

pointing the way!