"There's not much doubt in any of our minds that no complete idea springs fully formed from our brow,
needing only a handshake and a signature on the contract to send it off into the world to make twenty-five billion dollars.
The germ of the idea grows slowly..." - Walt Kelly

Thursday, April 2, 2015


Day Two: A poem about the stars.

Awake and lost in dreams,
she connects the dots
from a flattened patch
behind her father's house -
a grass angel, wings and all,
flying nowhere
but keeping her aloft.

Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Pond, Moth Wings

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