Pluto rolling over

I’m fearful today. That’s part of the Pluto journey. I don’t intend to rush, whistling, past the graveyard, desperately seeking comfort, redemption, or even wisdom. Instead, I’ve pulled up a low, hard bench in the middle of the cemetery. I’m listening to a cool wind in the trees, rustling the leaves of panic, confusion, grief, and rage. I’m sitting shiva with Pluto.

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