“A dreamer of pictures I run in the night
You see us together, chasing the moonlight,
My cinnamon girl” ~ Neil Young, Cinnamon Girl
The hour is late, it’s danged near light, and try as he might, your faithful scribe can’t get it right. My bad. It could be verse, right? Doh! Moving forward, I’m sorta out of it this morning, that is if you consider contemplating and vibing in to the mystery of life and death to be “out of it”. I learned yesterday midday that one of my favorite customers during my time at Cid’s Food Market passed away last month. It was her husband who told me. Because of the pain and the tears I could not bear to ask him what happened. She was my age. It hit me hard. My heart clenched. I got teary as well. The gaze between us was one of those larger than life moments. Tears, yes. A timeless place where beauty and pain blend seamlessly; not of the Shadow but of the Light. No, wait, it is of both. Good journey, sister. I know you read my book and I know where you went. I will miss you. Drop me a line when you’re not too busy, k?
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.