Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Here’s what I’d like to hear on those 1st Novembers standing at the graves of our long-gone.
Posted on Wednesday November 2nd