A wet and potentially stressful day
As all days are, although thankfully I
Am too slow to perceive just how much they
Should stress me, so I just conceive the lie
That it will be fine later, and I fly
In the face of the late November wind
Which slows me further. I know I must try
And do what the grass does in the storm, bend
And sway and even sing, and in the end
The wasteland will be green and kids will play
They won’t be scared of monster’s evil eye
Or calculating adders to offend
No matter what, we all go our own way
(Today was fine, despite that old grey sky)
Sun 23 Nov 2008
No comments:
Post a Comment