As I walk my shadow falls, it looks as if I’m six feet tall, I reach the hill my shadow shrinks, what a climb my old mind thinks, I reach the top then comes a race, A quickened pace, red in face, my shadows so tall with trees for lace, I reach the location, dark and still, I cannot see my shadow, though it’s with me still, to a new location, on a beautiful hill.
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Glance at the phone, contacting no-one, letters unopened, see bygones be gone, lie in a darkened room, while not wanting to venture outsid...
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Clean light does not shine here anymore magnolia walls have become dirty to the floor grey linoleum floors sticky past directional tape the... -
Movement is to do, better still not! It is a feeling, a moment in time a thought or a critique sublime never mind the bullshit be easy on ...
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