October 21, 1998


Restless though we are I am only here to leave for this is my sacrifice to paradise. There sits an old soul too weak to breathe the air, but patience holds her hand eternally. These days are passing but I’ve seen you before sharing stories that I now understand. Tonight my hands are tied for nothing is done. Morning haze has fallen upon my fingertips. This is the time to recollect through the years and what was had still claims importance. So does the wind that blows a storm from the west, we may enjoy the shade in summer’s day.

Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist