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. . .