The Place Where It Started

I went to the place where it started for me and spent time with half the people I’d known there. It wasn’t the way it used to be: it’s harder now to find some words and too easy for others. There are holes in places that used to be solid. There are flowers where there used to be trees. There is death where there used to be laughter, and knowledge where there used to be dreams.

The dark room showed violence, but not too much, and it also showed patience and grace. The room by the water showed the shockwaves of nature and the art that is hidden in food. The room meant for living was filled with opinions – ideas and voices and anger and hope. The room meant for sleeping grabbed me and swallowed, and groaned before hiding away. The room that keeps moving carried a box of silence across state lines where it was opened ceremoniously and out popped another fresh life.


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