WHERE DO THE DAYS GO?

Where do the days go,         the typewriter eats the days. What’s happened to the trees,         anxiety eats the trees. And what about love,

        it’s a victim of schedules and time.

When did you last drive         through blue-white Minnesota                 on a cold sunny day,

or sit beside a lake, just looking?

Silence is our true friend, why then consort with enemies.

Convenience is not enough.

etcetc. . .