nature kyla "The is low, the clouds are mean, A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go." 011122 ... kyla "The sky is low, the clouds are mean, A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go." 011122 ... Q Please, would you make up your mind! You're confusing my miasmic anticlivities. 011123 ... birdmad human inhuman fractal alcohol 011123 ... belly fire brand new little helpless things busted hearts and busted wings the tearing sound of suffering the pitch is almost sickening bear witness to nature's greatest reward the power to do nothing. Balance sucks. 020815 ... bespeckled Along an autumn street, the sky swirls in pinks and reds. The sidewalks and lampposts drink in an orange hue, swimming in nectar from the sky. She walks down the street, watching the leaves, browned to perfection like oven roasted treats, glide silkily through the suns gold sweetness. She feels the earth's pink illuminating her face like roses on her skin. She drinks in the oranges and greens and blues and reds, (she can see herself walking through a field of red roses, blue beach balls, grass like emerald glass, swimming through sees of golden light) She is whole, like nature. She is the only one alive. Like autumn's last perfect drop clinging to the leaf of an old oak tree. 030121 ... h|s|g works_a_s_ystem 110302 ... nr "have you ever considered being a pastoral poet?" she asked all those years ago. 220523 what's it to you? who go blather from