twelve_years12 blumengarten on the fence i sat a flower in a glass vase. it caught the sunlight like a robin yanking and tugging a glistening worm from the soggy spring grass. it held its fragrance, a slight quaver as if it would vanish if discovered. we smile at it as if innocence is easily translated as happiness. simply and instinctively. we are entertained by the muse of the age. we are comforted by the arms of love. we are lumps of clay shaped by the hand. we are blackboards of the earth. 060212 what's it to you? who go blather from