“Perpetual devotion to what a man calls his business is only to be sustained by perpetual neglect of many other things.”
– R. L. Stevenson
Back home. Ashes fall like yellow tears.
I take this pen like a brush,
grab the corners of a world and the sheet smiles
cold and perished. Every night
is a sleepy question in blue under the stars.
“People are strange when you’re a stranger.”
– Jim Morrison
What makes us a stranger if not our closed mind, mouth, heart?
Homes live out there too, somewhere beyond the lines.
Walls hide the road the frogs jump on
a daffodil and heather are their bush
birds fly from tree to tree in red circles
while we look through the windows afraid
of our death to come.
I don’t want to be busy anymore.
“Don’t be afraid, it’s a waste of energy. You do what you can and do your best.”
– Mary Anne Patten (nurse, among other things)
chameleonian times 