Someplace Between Life and Death
Inspired by a regular spring-time walk through a lightly wooded, old cemetery on a well-worn desire path. The muddiness of memory improves the experience by anachronistically combining the early and late spring.
The land exudes an earthy, mossy, rich odor. Are the headstones part of it? Odd scents waft down from the hawthorns and catalpas. The cemetery fence has been overrun with honeysuckle vines; on the other side of which the elderly tend roses in their gardens. It's cold enough to contemplate a campfire, but the window for this is brief.
Notes
"It's way too grandma"
