SOMETIMES
Sometimes I just do nothing,
wrangling the easel away from
my arms. The style of light that
comes in is amazing, and below
me the flat water shimmers.
-
Sometimes I sit back and ask
myself why : If that isn't a most
vacuous question to have to address,
even when asked of oneself, then
nothing else really is.
-
Sometimes I grow tired, or weary,
of the maelstrom of matter around
me. Tables not solid, atoms on edge,
items not staying in place. Why?
No comments:
Post a Comment