On September 6th,
A silly, broken doll
Got picked up
By a silly, shiny puppy
On September 6th,
A wild, empty rose
Got picked up
By a tame, gentle gardener
On September 6th,
Immeasurable distances, overcast and stormy, rose over the horizon
and again,
stagnant turmoil
remained.
On February 19th,
There is little to say, too much to think, and no timing.
