This is where my thoughts pool as a reservoir of miscellany and peculiarity. It's actually not my brain that's dripping -- it's my soul that's leaking.
It's really no big deal.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
casting off
That locust shell, a ghostly exuvia, hanging there on the pine tree trunk.
On what wind is the borne creature winging? And what new colors its glistening eyes behold?
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