Thursday, April 27, 2017

Great gray granite


Well, I just can’t help it. I love being so old that no one knows how young I am — except for you, of course — you’ve known all along, since long before either of us was born. I was a rock — a great gray granite slab. Do you remember? And you, you were an oak. We grew up together! Oh, yes, my friend, those were the days! And by those, I mean these. And by were, I mean are. And by days, I mean the eternity sparkling, dancing, flashing in your eyes, infinitely told. And that is only the beginning. Who knows what your next smile will bring?



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