spring_mists past the valley catches clouds, draws them down to where the rivers meet, mixing among the city folk and brushing against the endless sky. rather than rain, rather than shine, a deep grey descends, fogging glasses, and settling down in a deep twilight. it could be dawn, it could be dusk, it could be time stilled and blanked, at least for a day. there's a catch, between thoughts and words, where with formulation the depth is lost and a pinnacle stands in its place. it becomes harder to imagine the swirl opening into coherence, or the coherence folding itself back into the calm, cloudy confusion. 090609 ... past but for the seedling, i'd take the promising seed laid before me and nuture it. 090609 ... past (i think i'd be more patient with the seedling if it wasn't for the seed. she reawakened the active part of my heart, and it doesn't want to wait for her) 090609 what's it to you? who go blather from