Random scribblings -- poems, song lyrics, novel excerpts, maybe a short story a time or two, possibly even a drawing once in a while, an occasional rant -- from the last 25 years or so, with no claim made for their merit or value, simply a demonstration of their existence.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
The little marshes of desolation make one wonder
How did a soccer ball get so far downstream
In water not even deep enough to float a dream?
And what does the green ribbon mean?