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  • I know for certain that we never lose the people we love, even to death.
    They continue to participate in every act, thought and decision we make.
    Their love leaves an indelible imprint in our memories. We find comfort
    in knowing that our lives have been enriched by having shared their love.

    Leo Buscaglia, on 9-11-01

    The smoke of roasting chestnuts
    swirls around me, like smoke from a fire
    in which I am burning all my dreams.
    A warm autumn wind, in fitful gusts,
    blows flaming leaves around my feet.

    I walk along Central Park, as I once did,
    a long cobblestone walk of memories,
    full of silence and fury, beyond meaning,
    signifying nothing, nothing at all.
    The Museum is closed for the night.

    Alone and far, as a ghost schooner
    without friendly winds, stalled in time,
    I am becalmed on an alien sea.
    I need a compass, a map, a beacon, a lighthouse,
    to navigate this darkness and this pain.

    But there is no beacon, no compass,
    no map, no wind, no light, no nothing,
    to save me from the heartache,
    of this journey into my past,
    that kingdom lost to me, forever gone.

    (Photograph by Alex in Ethereal City, in the 3-D virtual world of Second Life)

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