Edgar Allan Poe

This morning as I walked past Westminster Hall, I realized that we are fast approaching Edgar Allan Poe's expiration date from this world. Flowers, wreaths and various arrangements have been placed by his tombstone. His wife's and mother-in-laws remains are also interred there. I really do find Westminster Hall and it's catacombs quite beautiful and since I am able to walk by it every day it brings a little smile to my face. I love the fact that 158 years after expiring people still preserve the memory of one of my favorite authors. In fact, every year on October 7 someone places a bottle of cognac and three roses on the site. This person is referred to as The Poe Toaster.

The photo are others interred at Westminster Hall, Poes will be posted on Oct 7, 2005.

She wakes, feet on the cold floor, walking in search of....
something....
something...
Hot, sweating, she has forgotten what she was in search of but walks outside into the cool, crisp morning.
Stars and planets bright against the black morning sky.
As she looks up thinking, suddenly awake she remembers that she is searching
and remembers what she thought she had lost really is there and has been all along.
The nightmares and horrible dreams just enforce this theory, idea, concept that those things are just hidden in dark corridors of a dusty mind.

Sometimes...
Sometimes....
maybe it is better to forget.