j’espere
irony ain’t lost on moi:
soles alone
dust greetings parch’d land
awaits a wadi’s empty hands
on day three
water was free’d
poison pas spoil
clay/sand/straw
well well well
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truenorthavenue: "In the midst of this chopping sea of civilized life, such are the clouds and storms and quicksands and thousand-and-one items to be allowed for, that a man has to live, if he would not founder and go to the bottom and not make his port at all, by dead reckoning, and he must be a great calculator indeed who succeeds. Simplify, Simplify." h.d. Thoreau
