the ego dies a death like
a gutshot deer
its blood soaks back
into the soil
pieces of its deteriorating fur taken by the wind
scattered everywhere
but other times it's like a mountain
slowly wearing away
changing shape as it does so
it becomes a landmark
it becomes a postcard
postcard
Re: postcard
nothing like a mountain to put ego in its place ... how it dwarfs our span, and how in turn, time dwarfs the mountain. when those rock-tappers talk about "ancestral mountains," well, consider my mind properly blown ...
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