| Last Post |
| The
last post pipes as the wind caresses your disfigured mouth agaped with sorrow too deeply wrenched to be audible. Mother Well, I am here ... I can hear. Lost are the mouths you no longer suckle. They are gone ... all gone. I am sorry, Mother Well ... I am so very sorry. The pipes are calling and my lips are parched with salt from your tears. |
 A village well lost to the sea in Pahang, Malaysia |