45th parallel

This is how complex grief plays out, 10 years later:

a 9 hour drive, 400 miles

2 strangers in pick up trucks: 1 angel in carharts wielding a tape measure, 1 blue eyed artist wielding a tape measure perhaps one last time before a move to cambodia

a 5 x 10 plot of land purchased, somewhere up above the 45th parallel

a 22 x 24 x 6″ slab of granite, discussed and imagined, edges broken, faces honed

the shock of a gray and white drawing,  a long lost name, and long lost date

standing on a green hill, with a wide view, poised at the halfway point between the equator and the north pole

somewhere near the halfway point between where I was, and where I’ll be.

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