After spending the morning cleaning the house it was time for my customary after-cleaning libation on the front porch. It was a perfect day: Sunny and warm, but not as humid as it has been, so I had Trinity join me and sat down with a glass of Kilting Me...
Tonight I’m to occupy a single breath: to let it slowly out as an open kettle might release its steam, left long on the stove. Eventually all substance turns to vapor & accumulates in the air, then falls again as a globe under its own weight. Bodies must be...
I cannot see, so I look beyond I cannot feel, so touch the stars I cannot taste, so I swallow anonymity I cannot smell, so I breathe the scentless air. I cannot hear, so I am deafened by the world I cannot find spirit, so I perceive all that...
“The sands of time were eroded by the river of constant change.”