No doorways, no windows, no walls
No shelter here on the ground
No standing and no safe place to fall
Just the promise of this distant sound
Bells are ringing all over the world

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Story Bone

“The taste of cashews reminds me of Christmas.” When I was growing up we had this candy dish that was ceramic holly leaves formed into a sleigh with runners. Every Christmas it would be filled with cashews by my mother or my grandparents. I remember the look of the dregs of the cashews in the deep green, a fine dust of brown cashew parts and the remnant salt that sloughed off.

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