things settling, burbling quietly on the back of the stove. a heats coming. toes cold and damp now from the morning walk to the coop, trails of greenblue grass pushed aside where my path was so clearly walked just minutes before. tangible past, the only one, i suppose i use my children the same way. ozymandius. how do you spell that one? you know of what i speak.
book finished with coffee this morning, evidence of bravery, literary and personal. and so it is, every day.
Thursday, August 22, 2013