I have eggs, she cooed, here in my basket – care to have a peek? Considered his response carefully, not wanting to count this chicken,
The floorboards, imagining themselves waves, undulate, throw my balance off kilter… The lemonade, ignoring my thirst, refuses to open – holds fast to top rendering
Is it just me, or is anyone else feeling low on energy these days? Wishing you all a laid-back Sunday.
It’s like cycling uphill in three lanes of traffic in a snowstorm trying to communicate with you I keep peddling – sending signals – but
Not much of a gardener, but seems I’m adept at growing dirty clothes – the shirt I planted Monday, having now sprouted many offshoots, the
Daylight softens and my lens twitches to follow the birds into the brush to a pond where green water ripples, exposes the presence of beaver,