Wacky

Wacky

Wacky

I’m beside the pond, on the north side beneath the walnut tree, more contemplating than reading. Someday I’ll put a gazebo here in place of this blue plastic chair. Maybe next spring.

The place has an emptiness about it, a hollow ring. I suspect it will for some time. I buried Wacky a few hours ago this morning. She was as much of this place as anything else.

I never told anyone, but part of the reason I agreed to this place was so that our two rescued ducks could have a real pond to swim.

Yeah, I swim in it too, and that was another part of the reason.

But now, there’s one less to share the fun.

There’s an emptiness about the place, I said that already I know. And another hole in my heart. I’m not sure how many more of these I can take.

Well, I’m going back outside and sit beneath that walnut tree, do a little more contemplating. I’ll take my book, but I doubt I’ll read.

Talk to y’all later.

Rest in peace, Wacky. ? – September 11, 2016

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Author: Peter Schreiner

Vegan, Anarchist, Writer, Poet. Planted on Planet Insanity. Poisoned by the wrath of humanity. Purpose, earthling liberation.

14 thoughts on “Wacky”

  1. So beautiful. The place and your thoughts. I’m so sorry, I know what it’s like, too, too much. Each time it gets harder. Loss and grief don’t get any easier with practise. And that emptiness, it’s so, so hard isn’t it ??? The whole place just full of absence that nothing can ease. It is overwhelming. I know nothing can be said to make it any less painful but thinking of you.

    Liked by 3 people

      1. So true, it never does go away.It is always just below the surface.And each time it happens, just deepens the wounds already there. They recede eventually, each time, even when you think you’ve reached your limit, because you have to go on, but you are forever haunted.
        Hang in there.

        Liked by 1 person

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