Thursday, 16 October 2008

When I'm alone in the half-light of the forest, all existence seems to fade to a being with my soul and memories, and the sounds of the sweet Tampin River and a four-count rhythm, and the hope that a fish will rise. Eventually all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the county's biggest flood, and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words. And some of the words are theirs. I'm haunted by waters.----A River Runs Through It

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