When I Read Stephen Kind

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When I read Stephen King.

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An infant child crawls in the tall grass.

A fat gray cat comes near

Then runs when he reaches for it.

The grass feels soft and hard at the same time.

Someone picks him up

And carries him towards the back porch.

The fence, yard, weathered shingles

Sunlight, wind

Pleasure.

.

Can we see the past so clearly?

Some can.

Carrying it all.

Filling minds with joy and sorrow.

Hearts seeing.

The pictures so clear.

Feeling the past.

.

Later the child watches as the cat gives birth.

So many.

Scary.

The dreams come soon after.

Under the covers.

The light

The bird caught in a cocoon.

Struggling but unable to free itself.

Scary.

.

Life in pictures

In the mind.

Movies running slowly

Real.

Clear

Far away.

Joy and sorrow.

Untouchable.

Unfixable.

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by Steve Hopkins


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