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Mole narrative/ Ostrich – a metaphorical quest

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I am  burrowing in an endless quest for an ostrich head.
I can feel the vibrations of the busy people who drink the bad water that flows through the cold rusty pipes
I bump into.
But it can only be blind luck that leads me to my ostrich .
He makes no movement .
His feet are bracing the earth to its very core.
And I wonder out loud
“How long can an ostrich live with his head in the sand?”
I pick up a strange and  new vibration
Feels like a “topsider ” talking.
A bird?
“Where is that stupid mole?”

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About wherearetheheros

just someone my mother might know

4 responses »

  1. Oh the things you think and write. 🙂 You make me smile!

    Reply
    • Didn’t your mama tell you the story of the mole and the ostrich head when you were little.
      Ha ha
      thanks Debbie!

      Reply
      • No, but now I can pass it on to my daughter! 🙂 She and I used to call ourselves the mole people, because she has her days and nights switched around. And when we used to drive to MO to see grandma, there was an ostrich farm along the way. So it all makes perfect sense to me.

      • Ha ha thanks for telling that!!

        There are several ostrich farms within 25 miles or so of my home.

        Once I worked for a man who left his chainsaw, leaf blower and weedeater running on the ground to drive the moles out.

        Moles are the least of my worries.

        One more mole story :).
        My mom said when she was in school the boy behind her kept touching her hair. He said, ” It feels like mole fur.” .

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