Slug

A memory came to me this morning

A memory of sitting on a bench silently with a good old friend on a summers night in Walthamstow, watching a fox rummage

Now I stand alone under an autumnal tree shedding its florescent yellow leaves in the rain, watching a slug

I am reminded of a lesson in Hexagram 13. Good friends rarely ever meet and when they do, it hardly lasts.

Laks Indrakaran – Somerville, MA

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