Friday, March 25, 2011

Before


Before
by Carl Adamshick, from here


I always thought death would be like traveling
in a car, through the desert,
the earth a little darker than sky at the horizon,
that your life would settle like the end of a day
and you would think of everyone you ever met,
that you would be the invisible passenger,
quiet in the car, moving through the night,
forever, with the beautiful thought of home.

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