Perhaps—a poem about death and the noosphere
Perhaps when I die
my me, my who
my one, my I
distils in minds
and memories
of those who stay behind.
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If you only knew — a poem
Mother (as we called her then) had lost her friend her dear friend Verity had died and Celia was sad. Three days later in the dead of night she had a visitation. Verity stood at the end of her bed laughing and laughing and laughing and shining with delight. Celia was enraged. “How dare you […]
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