54.
I open my eyes onto the most
brilliant blue sky I have ever witnessed.
Or so it seems.
I am lying on my back, on the
smooth grass. The gale force wind is gone now, replaced with a gentle sweet
smelling breeze. The kind of clean spring air I recall as a child when almost
nothing mattered and my life was immortal. I sit up and see that almost no
signs of the storm that was ravaging this cemetery only moments ago remain.
There are only the trees now in full bloom, the birds singing in them, and the
chirping of the crickets.
Not far from where I am seated, I
see three deer feeding on the overgrown grass. To the right of them, a dozen
wild turkeys collected together in a tight pack are sneaking their way around
some old marble headstones, on their way to the safety of the wood
