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,
Suspect these sentiments, gnarled and ungrateful, only serve to tip the scale in favour of cynicism have, therefore, decided on self- imposed quarantine; will be