Other than brooding
And nostalgic remorse
Pining for what was once
Regretting what missed
Reliving what passed
Until I descend down
Another rabbit hole
In the trunks of trees swells the history of a place, not only in the rings of time but in the seeds of regeneration branching out across the centuries. No tree stands alone, nor any man, but in its genetics carries a memory of days now reduced to dust. Its roots suck on the bones of all our ancestors.
Benjamin with Kenny and Danny, circa 1939