Driving on this long stretch of open space I realize I haven't seen clouds in years low hanging dark clouds, pushing the boundaries of cloud hood the white thick cotton clouds splashed with the salmon color of a coming sunset the simple white spackled clouds spread out lazily in the opening blue of atmosphere The tiny rain drops litter my windshield the hum of the road finds its way to my ears and my heart I could drive this forever forgetting all the things that should be forgotten remembering things that should be remembered maybe forget could be like forgiving but better and more whole it would be like the small pebbles along the roadside miles back forgotten like nothings, like never-weres I could be a zen Buddhist with pebbles and clouds of thoughts being only what they are without effort and I could in some sense cease to be the me that I am or I could be a light shining in dark skies in dark places in my own heart where the darkness...
