i hear our commander in grief is adding a dash of rue with a wooden spoon. big fly buzzing back and forth. dog bark down the lane. sit in sun and ponder worth. wonder who to blame.
at least in my own life, i know my bad’s my fault. as for the good in my life, i have to give a lot of credit to luck, timing, and chance.
before lady and i cast ourselves off from our country, she said we were like the spiders who spin a bit of web, jump off the edge and fall until a breeze catches their web and carries them to the other side. if they don’t make it to the other side, they crawl back up and fall again and again until they catch their breeze. but i just realized, there is no other side… life’s all spinning and falling and hoping – with no other side. or if there is another side, it’s called death. so we spinning and falling and crawling back up and spinning and falling.
