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Archive for the ‘Father Luke’ Category

no place to hide by Father Luke

Looking around there’s nothing that means anything. Not a shadow
thrown by a lamp, or the look on my face reflected back from the
polished sliding glass doors as I smell the crap from the litter box.

I’m wearing out. Knees, wrinkled face… arthritic and old. And
everything has no more meaning than all the yesterdays mixed together
and poured over chipped ice, sucked up by children, and pissed into
diapers, which will be thrown out into the trash in the rain.

It’s who I am. It’s enough.

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A sheriff is diverting traffic.

A mother bear is trying
to drag her dead cub off the highway.

Nothing is more important to me now
than slowing to a stop, and allowing another
their grief.

We are, all of us,
so alone.

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