GOOD DAYS FOR FACSIMILIES
Nothing resembles nothing so much
as more of the same : yellow trees for
three weeks of blazing with Autumn;
still waters rippling in a breeze that
trails across the lake. I can't imagine
better reasons for bliss.
-
I sit around dreaming. Or at least I
want to, or say I do, or try to. I've
never been to distant lands, but I
know exactly what they mean :
incommunicative lightweight
signals, drifting far and wide; a
group of locals paddling with
words their local tongue, and me,
with but a breath of hoping, at
work just listening in.
No comments:
Post a Comment