We’ve always been leaving
or arriving,
flotsam on the tides
of a great sea:
our ‘selves’ like
driftwood,
and broken shells;
bits of things once whole
now fragments collecting on an unimaginable shore …
you and I under the spell of moonlight
called to dance the only dance there is.
Text, Photographs and Video: Copyright 2009 by David H. Roche
keep on truckin'
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