domingo, outubro 15, 2006

Like razors tearing at a wounded heart.


" Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am the autumn wind that blows,
And the diamond glints on the snow.
When you awaken in the morning hush,
I am the sweep uplifting rush...
of quiet birds circled in flight.
I am the star that shines in the night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I do not die."

Native American killed in World War II


photo by natasha-marie

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