Life in Ruins

White veils and thule-wrapped trees.

Old theaters in Rust Belt towns.

A life about to be lived.

A son about to be born.

Now...

Things that don't slot easily inside words.

Heavy hearts for a world that no longer exists.

But all worlds go away on a long enough timeline.

Procession.

Process.

Proceed.

The lone and level sands stretch far away.

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What I’m reading: We Germans (Alexander Starritt)

What I'm listening to: Half-Truths and Indiscretions (The Burning Paris)

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