There will be a new quiet place in the next few weeks. Only this kinda quiet, is going to last forever. The moment, we aint in control of, the hour, the second, the morning or afternoon of a day is in an hour glass of time so to speak, but It’s been ninety-four years in the making, so that time in bottle with a life full, well, even its sand was measured down to this last little grain.
So, Life, as we all know it, is demanding an answer. It’s the final, in the final exam. And the test, unfortunately is for the living.
Now for us, that will then live with this new silence, must change, make our own personal adjustments to the lack of a person.
Not somebody, not a someone, a that girl, or that guy. No, this time it’s from my skin, my bloodlines, of me, before I was a me, and this time, we don’t have to ask why. Because we know why. Anybody who expects another day of life, with the living, knows this one. It aint a why, but to salve oneself, it may be a why now.
So, a voice is going away. A soft fingered hand, with milky eyes. Albeit worn and maybe worn out in her own words has decided, that she aint going to fight it. She’s gonna let what will be, be.
And to be gracuious, she’s letting as many as she deems necessary, oh my in catching ones breath, she is making sure in her quiet way, she is letting us know, if you want to hear her once more, well you better be getting to her quickly. Because the day is coming very soon, when she will be forever quiet. The trout whisperer
flyrod58 