• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 08


“I am a part of all that I have met,” mused
Tennyson as he read the map of a soul…as he
traced the lines of here and there upon a heart.

I, too, am a collage of all that I have met. I am a
fancier of dog days and bird songs, of cat stares and
silences, of cages and stages, and actors waiting in
the wings.

A cut and paste smattering of past moments and
minds are stacked and tacked upon the poster of
times long past, but forever to last, pasted and
framed in each present thought.

All of life collages into place,
separate stories suspended in an instant,
brought together in a puzzling yet wonder-full
whole…pieces strangely fitting, served on a
platter of what does and does not matter.

Will you buy a dog daze? A feline flit of
time and rhyme? Wings of whimsies and whys?
Come, browse this collage of me as I hold these
lines on a leash and await your nod.

I am the shopkeeper of all I have met, the
vendor of pet verses of me.