there are mornings when i would rather start the day in the afternoon
imagine our lives if we lived every day as a holiday
we all know someone who could get hopelessly lost in a parking lot
sometime the next day the search for the missing hat will go unresolved
when an empty space is protected, one wonders: protected from what
how we measure time is imperfect; yet we trust the calendar page
seen differently what we have become used to can appear foreign
the more we focus on one particular thing the less we can see
it’s the simple things like a good chin scratching that make life worth living
just because someone seems to be stuck, we should still see their potential
Have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
