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[Jul. 17th, 2012|12:50 am] |
If there is no movement, there MIGHT be no time.
But here, there is movement (ludzu: my step son's charming criminal behaviour, the oak root vodka in my system, and the female part of the family playing hopscotch in the moonshine)
The stationary objects are spinning, the hair is greying and with accepted wisdom I can now relate the genetic imperative to a steam train cackling out of sight, while I lie without and within the steam cloud, settling in the meadow..
One more solar cycle from the day of birthing. |
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