Twice a day she passes,
each time tutting a mantra
to banish the monolith.
Knowing, as she does,
the obvious squalor
of its subhuman inhabitants. 30 more words
2 months ago
Weave a Web
Last week I was clearing the weeds and long grass along the roadside in front of my house. Would you believe? The weed-eater ran out of fuel just when there was only a little bit left to do. 245 more words
4 months, 3 weeks ago
Like little bees, always doing.
The busy lives and the bodies keep moving.
When self-reflect is too a dangerous a pool to peer in.
The busy bodies never see their own reflection. 44 more words
5 months, 3 weeks ago