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September 15th 2010    Tim Candler

    I have to give the title Close Mockingbird back to place, and thereby relieve the connection in my mind between Close Mockingbird and an individual.  I have to do this because I do not believe my friend survived the summer.

    But I still have hopes.  A truly chilly night is needed to produce an idea of winter territory, and of the close trees, if in following mornings I see a Mockingbird in the Cherry leaves, I'll probably be tempted.

   We are parts in the great tapestry.  An idea of something as  'mine' too absurd for a universe to tolerate.  Yet how that idea dominates.   How it makes lonely.  How it belongs.

   Nor does my sense of the Close Mockingbird being confirmed in his bachelorhood aid the process.   Damned if I shouldn't myself build an idol to him.

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