Tangles Of Vines And Brush

     The drift of the aged, unwilling to battle the currents anymore.  Go on along for the ride.  Float that water, stay alert.  Scream laughs maniacally.  Hollar.  Only the banks can save our lives.  The east bank is peaceful, a beach leading up to rolling hills.  Green and lush.  The west is full of tangles of vines and brush.  Right up to the water line.  Massively tall trees.  Dark, like a jungle.

     Scavenger birds circled, knowing another's death was near.  The scavengers die too, eventually.  An ocean will be found.  Washed out with the mud.  Worn and weary, exhuasted and spent.  The afternoon is not full of romance, the best is yet to come.  The sweet evening, the mad night, then the dreams.  Daily, every hour.  The things done, never assured, never imagined.  Experienced is all.  Felt.

     Turn the lights up.  Get the cameras in place.  No talking on the set.  Actors, take your spots.  Actresses too!  Your lines have been memorized, need your best delivery.  3, 2, 1, go.