http://cabinetmagazine.org/issues/12/warner.php who ya gonna call? M.True

May your doubts be scattered as burned out husks and transformed to gold sifted dreams of paradise. Such are the exits from our assigned paths we seek. Arise phoenix of dreams. Your time will come. Water changes everything we know...Bob

Hello Odin ~~ This is a swirling, swiveling creative space of a poem. The key word for me in this is 'defiant.' As in willfulness. Opposed to 'compliant' exit. Also shining out is 'expiration as transition,' overlaying other words of change; dust, whispers, unknown, imagined, reality. I feel a sure stirring of the potions in this writing. ~~ Diana

This poem is short, but not sweet. It speaks of coming disaster… Perhaps the end of life.

On the other hand, I was struck by the photo. While I know it is probably Aspen leaves floating on water. All I could see it first, was flecks of gold, perhaps nuggets, in the bottom of a pan. I guess I've been watching too many of the Gold Rush reality series on TV. Have I got gold fever? ;-)

Ron