Sunday, November 21, 2010

Softened at the Edges


Sometimes death arrives on folded feathers.

4 comments:

  1. every day, life is coming and going, being born and busy dying. Sweet bird - I hope it had a good life. I like the visual and metaphoric softening at the edges. Nicely done.

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  2. Tara, it's been seven years today since M. died.... I'm hoping for softening at the edges, more and more each day. xoT.

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  3. I hate to find dead birds, especially beneath a plate glass window. As Tara says, one just hopes it had a good life... What more is there?

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  4. T. - the post became more clear after reading your FB post. Now, the 'softening at the edges' in relation to your dear sweet Mark, is poignant indeed. Love and heart-felt embraces to you.

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