the_ghosts_of_birds fyn gula in the umbrage of a teacup magnolia, he sat at the weathered wooden table his brother-in-law would one day make, head in hands, waiting for her essence. for if he was to be alone, rain was turning to snow and fragile blossoms were dying in the unexpected cold. he was a solitary man in need of her resurrecting presence. the petals fell as silently as the snow all around him and he was in such dismal longing he did not know they sat on his shoulders like the ghosts of birds. his grandmother brought him mangos, carefully cut from the skin and raspberries from oregon, her silvery, grey hair falling from a loose bun, her fringed cloak dusted with the surprise flakes of mid april. "she is where she is not," nonnie said, and her italian was like belle canto. she tried to place the little red berry in his tightly pursed lips. "i can't eat," he said, and he knew there was much more he would never do unless she was with him again. and the sound of his voice was a dying loon that no one sees in the morning fog, the recollection of joy once remembered, but now a memory so distant only sound remains. he tried. and when he closed his eyes he saw a small boy at pelee island, when the sun climbed in the blue sky like a balloon one lets go of, and the moonlight visits the cottage room uninvited, but welcome. 010417 ... Strideo . yes ... 030717 ... (z) (!) 040728 ... () () 050329 ... z and birds stare they know and knowing the forget each moment passing like blades in a meadow waving the ripples of history birds don't mind and history repeats itself changing little as change goes still, i see them a ghosts of themselves repeating moment after moment alone sometimes calling out to the universe always watching and stops 050428 ... z and birds stare they know and knowing they forget each moment passing like blades in a meadow waving the ripples of history birds don't mind and history repeats itself changing little as change goes still, i see them as ghosts of themselves repeating moment after moment alone sometimes calling out to the universe always watching and stops 050428 ... . . 061008 ... () () 061009 ... (z) () 071026 ... flowerock Skellig 140701 ... () () 140702 what's it to you? who go blather from