I once again return to this place.
It is all still here.
I walk down this path,
My path,
Edged with stones I once dislodged from this ground,
Carried and placed into the winding curve I now follow.
I glance to the left,
Knowing I will see her
Just beyond the opening I once sculpted through the cedar trees.
And there she is,
sparkling blue water, endless and moving.
I turn towards her in tears.
Again joy, again surprise.
She is still here.
She was here.
Even when I was not.
-julia livingston
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
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