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they accumulate
like snowflakes on a limb
and then they are gone
like raindrops on your skin
taken by the Sun
and when the dry spells come
I hold onto them
these memories
perhaps long forgotten
by those who shared in them
and those already silent
they drift downstream and out of site
to return upon my final night
and beginning with the first clear light of youth
all but a whisper
....is life
After telling a childhood story regarding his wife being visited by an actor in the hospital when she was sick back in 1955, he said...'Life is just a whisper...' how true that is.
I drove past the tree
that saved me many times
when I was so young
it reached it's limbs and called me in
and I would wile away the hours
watching the world move below
blind to my hiding place
I held tight as the cruel older kids
walked by
looking for me to belittle and abuse

my friend has withered in the waning years
his bold trunk now dry and hunched
his strong broad reaching arms now drooped
by his side
I'm not sure on which limb I carved my initials
or what side I buried those baseball cards
in a sandwich bag and my Dad's cigar box
he got me through those early years
my sanctuary
my protector
I catch a final glimpse in the rear view
I have to smile as it looks as if his top limb waves to me
but I know it's just the breeze
when I was a kid I spent hours climbing and hiding out in a tree just outside my backyard
we were leaving after all these years
the place where I was born
the only walls, alleys and rooftops I have come to know
I counted down the days with sorrow and fear
not sure what to say to my friends
the only friends I've known
like brothers we were

on the last day I wrote a note
and folded it
stuck it in a tight gap under the porch
where the wood had warped
it doesn't matter what it said
just that I was leaving a piece of me here
a piece that may never be found again
hardest thing I ever had to do as a kid
...a graveyard of all things
across the street of this house I've rented on the beach
a family plot on the opposite end of an empty 3 or 4 acres
this wasn't in the description
but I find nothing more comforting than a few dozen resting souls
nearby
while I too rest
I awoke the first morning to a sigh and then another
as clear as if she were laying beside me
and later that day...near dusk
I paid a visit where she rest
and returned with the sounds and images of my new friends
the Austins, the Stowes, the Farrows and the Wades
the blackbirds squawked and jumped from tree to tree
they did not approve of my interest
perhaps they are the protectors of these souls
settlers of the Outer Banks
this just occurred last week. I will be posting the video on Youtube. There are several anomalies...voices, etc. One of which is unquestionably a breath, sigh, inhale...that comes at the gravestone of William S. Stowe. I will add a link after I post the video.
https://youtu.be/1ExATtnwTDY
in the waning days of my sojourn
when the Sun will set quicker than I remember
when I'll wish I'd taken advantage of a pain free body
and walked a bit longer in those fields of gold
searched my dreams for meaning
taken a few extra moments to absorb
the laughter of my children when they were mere toddlers
the mindset falls into one of waiting
as we drift off into the natural state of irrelevancy
like the favorite stuffed bear that is still loved
but has served its purpose
watching the world spin by upon a shelf
next to a copy of Tom Sawyer
I'd give all my remaining days
to re-live one of those fading memories
I'm finally back to writing new material after sifting through and revising some older pieces. Time to get back in the flow
I never hear when they speak
only hours later
in the painfully lit basement of my home
with earphones and patience
do their words reach me
such was the case last October
I was driving through Wilderness, Virginia
for the first time and happened to pass
Saunders Field. I caught sight of the plaque
that stood at the bottom of the hill
and a trail that led into the woods
where the fierce skirmishes took place
it was a bit chilly and windy
and the road nearby was busy with passing cars
not an ideal place for an EVP session
but I felt compelled to try
and walked the edge of the woods
then a short portion of the trail
I asked many questions directly to anyone
who may be listening
'How many souls perished here?'
'Are you one of those souls?'
'Did you suffer?'
'Why do you stay or visit this place?'
as usual, I heard no voices during the 18 minutes
of questioning
however, the presence was undeniable
I was not alone here
this I knew
on the way back down the hill to leave
I reached out one final time
'I have about 20 seconds left, so if you'd like
to say something, please say it now'
again I heard nothing, turned the recorder off
and departed

it was several days before I could return home
and review my recording
but my curiosity as always
grew stronger the longer I had to wait
I was disappointed as I began to listen
nothing heard as each minute passed
only the whisper of wind and cars
until I came to my final statement in those last moments...
'I have about 20 seconds left, so if you'd like
to say something, please say it now.'

'Leave me under ground........'
true story - oldie - slightly revised
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