Starbuck

Another death, following others, falling forward into more death, until this great change is the only thing existing and surrounding and saturating our senses. Starbuck Stiles was a dear friend, a generous person, an adoring father, and a brilliant doctor--a healer in the oldest archetypal sense. Odd that I should so suddenly realize that I loved him; almost comical to think that I'll never see him again. That power of certainty lies only in a death: about what else can we ever say "never"? I do still feel him, though, and all of the years I knew him add up to one mysterious void--a kaleidoscope of questions and images, scents and voices...my mind flashes to the dry soundless wind of Mesa Verde; this is what death feels like to those still living.