Wednesday, November 10, 2010

It's that time of year again.

Dear K.B.,

Today everything has me thinking back to when I first heard about what you did... how I fell, and how he crawled up after me, and how your family looked in black.
This is vague and I don't know any other way to look back at this but over my shoulder and past the murk that clouds the last couple years.

It's fall again. You've left behind small tragedies of people, a marble slab, and a scarf I'll wear to school because it's fall, I'm cold, and it's all part of the spoils of war.

Have faith and more faith and the most faith and I wish I would have tried harder to tell you these things.

Good Night.

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