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Camp pictures

Which sounds really, really strange when I come to think of it. *grin*
On the second night at the open mike/free read I performed Wallace McRae's poem Reincarnation.

What is reincarnation, the cowpoke asked his friend
His pal replied, it happens when your life has reached its end.
They comb your hair, wash your neck and clean your fingernails
And lay you in a padded box, away from life's travails.

The box and you goes in a hole that's been dug in the ground
Reincarnation starts in, once you're planted 'neath a mound.
Them clods melt down, just like the box and you who is inside
And then you're just beginning on your transformation ride.

In a while some grass will grow upon your rendered mound
Until, one day a lonely flower is found.
And then a horse should wander by and graze upon this flower
That once was you but now's become your vegitative bower.

Now this posy that the hoss ate up with his other feed
Makes bone and fat and muscle essential to this steed.
But some is left, that he can't use and so it passes through
And finally lays upon the ground, this thing that once was you.

Then, say by chance I wanders by and finds this object on the ground.
I ponders and I wonders at this thing that I have found.
I thinks of reincarnation, of life and death and such
And come away concluding, y'know Slim, you ain't changed all that much.

Here are the pictures.


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