Sunday, September 8


it's been years.
uh huh.
years since she potted up the swedish ivy in my kitchen.
no worries,
she left.
lucky ugly ducklings that we are,
the ivy stayed, and multiplied,
and now,
at the earliest hour of my most empty morning,
it has flourished as well!
after swedish fish, swedish ivy is the next dopest swedish thing.
and it's even F*ing better with buds on it.
check the small-things-make-a-difference-type teleport:
and they're just for me.
turns out,
life doesn't care if you're watching,
or if you even notice,
or whether or not you get involved.
it's all really happening, anyway,
with or without you.
that's the most depressingly comforting thought.
you're part of it if you want to be,
and if not,
you just get to miss out.
and we wouldn't want that, would we?
no way.
the silent disquiet that suffocates the feeling of a living being in a living place
can be allayed by something as simple as the sight of a flower?
a little footnote from ma nature that sounds so loud, fresh, and hard,
when there's mostly empty space around me?
nature wins.
the temperature is dropping quickly outside,
and it's getting a lot darker too,
for so much longer and so much sooner.
seasons change.
people change.
things change.
the wind is blowing, neighbors,
and with it comes small wars and big action and bigger answers.
it's due to neither gust nor gale,
but, from where we sit, here,
in the woodsly goodness we still bend away from the sun.
we're wilting on an axis, according to the whim of gravity,
which is actually pretty staid and inflexible...
but gravity, in it's turn, is just giving in to nature.
and like i just said a second ago-
nature always wins.
spinning to and from the warm kisses of day
and the cold enveloping embrace of night.
time keeps crashing against action,
and action keeps yelling louder than all these words,
begging for brighter spots and bigger circles to overlap into and over
and echo inside of and under and out from.
it's perfect weather for reflections;
never quiet, never soft.....

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