Wasteland baby
Far from me
Our second winter and cold is just cold
Unromantic but not fatal
At least not when we are huddled
One with the other
And we are huddled, under Heaven,
With the one who comes alongside.
And if I were alone I could run faster
I could get more shots off
I could pass undetected
And fit into smaller holes
I would live longer, and get my own way
And grow fat in the fearful parts of myself
A little kingdom well-defended
But if I were alone I would not be really living
Just eating
And running
And shitting
Because my life lies with you
To strive and to grow
To war and to discover
The conservation of all the things I love.
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December 31st, 2011 at 9:46 pm
Well said friend.