Sometimes my mind just wants to blow away with the wind and never come back like nothing was. Thoughts that no longer have any facts to prove they exist. Memories without a past. Nothing without something. There’s a cold corner in hell reserved for those who like the heat. Heaven has halos for the best of them and no guarantee for the rest of them. What did I do yesterday and will I remember it tomorrow for some reason. Or will it come back to me on my deathbed at the moment my brain takes flight like a dandelion’s little parachutes whisked away by a breeze from the mouth of a child? Why am I haunted by places I’m not sure existed. Why do I remember an item and not where it lay? Things grouped together for what reason I know not and then those torn apart never to be put together again. Humpty Dumpty is an omelet -- when did it become a law to kill and not to love?
Donald L. Brooks