Figure
Eights
Trees, white cotton clouds
Float by, I sit, absorb sounds
Nature's noise abounds
City noise melts me
Smelts me into submission
Does silence exist?
Is
This Love?
Strings pull at my heart
A marionette Ping-Pong
Time to sing a song
Morning
Routine
Miss morning java
Love my bittersweet coffee
What can take its place?
