|We miss them.|
Sunday, July 10, 2011
The view from my slimy orbs holds close in region.
A ticking clock is held close due to bad vision.
While the vision is poor, the view is rich.
Dark green trees lit from the sun, clouds
in the direct distance, not touching our reached out fingertips.
No chance of rain, No chance of pain. No possibility
of any negative uses of words.
No angry drizzles on our happy mountains.
Just funky feelings and calm eyes, breezy conversation
to fuel a deeper prize.