Originally written June 21st 2008
An uneventful night at the Wynnewood bar with too many toos, too many beers, too many cigarettes, too old to still be living like this.
Well uneventful until we passed the Paoli Cemetery in a perpendicular manor.
A field of stone that houses my ancestors, all of them perfectly spaced and planted to await there physical resurrection and the second coming.
Where by order of the full moon, and the assistance of the exterior lights, our passing reflection was cast in all of that solemnly polished granite.
A reflection abstracted, yet still discernible
We were reflecting their death and literal representation of mortality, and they our life and refusal to acknowledge such a notion.
For that very brief, strange, and beautiful moment, the living and the dead reached across that eerie threshold, and acknowledged each other with indifference.
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