She was welcome
Bringing with her
The end today
The beauty of inevitability
Death.
The absolute bliss of completely not knowing
Dead.
Nothing dies
We all decay to nothing
September 2013,
The harvest month
I always leave in September.
“When I go from hence, let this be my parting word, that what I have seen is unsurpassable.” Rabindranath Tagore, Gitanjali.
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