Went for a bicycle ride through my childhood neighborhood.
Time and place merge with each rotation of the wheels.
Wheels of fortune and misfortune, of discovery and passage.
Fingers stained purple from the old mulberry tree by the graveyard.
Still fruitful after all these years.
Some berries sweet and juicy, some bitter, like memories.
So I return and reach for more.
Through the barbed wire, through the graveyard.
Return to Forever…
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