Anomalies Time is a sort of river of passing events, and strong is its current. -- Marcus Aurelius
When you died, I was a thousand miles away. (You were still so young—just fifty-nine.) Yet I remember every moment of that day. So very hard not being there to hear you say my name aloud and I love you for the last time. When you died, I was a thousand miles away. It was November, but it might have been May, so deceptive, so improper the bright sunshine. Yes, I remember every moment of that day. The night before, I dreamt of a jittery blue jay sounding an alarm. So clear now this cosmic sign. When you died, I was a thousand miles away. Random thoughts: your laugh almost like a bray, the slight droop of your right eyelid, just like mine. Oh, I remember every moment of that day. You were cheated of your proper earthly stay— so sad losing the chance to age like a fine wine. When you died, I was a thousand miles away; yet I remember every moment of that day. Martha Golensky
