Dance in the Full Moon

O, the Frailty of Memory

Thursday, May 21, 2015

5.21

I've been thinking lately about chopped-down trees. If a photographer or cartographer has captured their exact state at some exact past, do they still exist? If a carpenter or hooper has made some useful object from their wood, do they still exist? If I still love them, do they still exist? I have whole forests of long-dead friends.

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