Published: 03 Jun 2018 › Updated: 03 Jun 2018
Sunday Morning
In a broken down gilded cage in the north Florida wilderness,
surrounded by Miles Davis and barb wire.
Prayers said, garden fed. Forgiving trespasses as I hope I'm forgiven.
Living symbolically, not literally or historically; trapped in allegory.
My ego keeping me from experiencing a life more fully.
It's Sunday morning again, surely.
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