Saturday, May 17, 2008


The creative moment when the tree split and the bird took off for it's morning tryst sheltered a thought of procrastination in the most proactive way, but the apology didn't come. So, the boy sat there wondering if the fog would turn his green red or if it would just become too itchy to matter either way. Instead, the forgotten mule fell over and saw a shade of curious disappointment in the fractured moon that made literally no sensical commentary in defense for the promised light of shadowed argument...
And I said to him *I really enjoy watching the lights of the train come into view down the darkened tunnel as it approaches me.*
But he didn't understand that it was only a minute of simplicity that caused a hiccup in the world's plan. So, I wandered off and looked myself for a green goodness that would make me smile and recognize that the mule never fell, only laid himself down in the yellow of the tree's bloom.

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