Do Little

A spider is making it’s way,
Across the speckled white ceiling toward the Orchid,
That probably doesn’t get enough light to bloom.
Or perhaps away from the stinkbug on the windowsill.
So much life in the quiet evening room!
How could I ever be lonely,
Learning to talk with You?

 
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Now read this

Hue Decoration Day

Tell the Spartans, stranger passing by, That here obedient to their laws we lie. I am made in the mold of White knuckled men Who wake early Regardless of the night before. Precision is not an exacting science for them Yet we know the... Continue →