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Everything is heavy this morning. The fog is so thick that the sun and I have a hard time finding each other. And it seems that I am burning the air in her stead. It is too heavy for bows, even... the rains have come and have left the trees boughed only with dew. which pools up on the leaves and off into my hair. Almost as if the trees too are mourning the loss of night. I lose myself in the blurry horizon. I walk into the pink where the sun should be. I close my eyes and long to be a blade of grass. . How Rude! - Wednesday, Sept. 22, 2004 - 12:16 PM One small step but no giant leap. - Tuesday, Sept. 30, 2003 - 11:17 AM Where's George? - Thursday, Sept. 25, 2003 - 12:48 PM |
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a Nifty design 
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