Friday, October 12, 2007

stale.

I was sitting on the porch yesterday as a tiny leaf scraped along the otherwise deserted and cold street. Pushed rudely by the wind through the gritty silence, its racket was throwing colourful thought into my empty mind.


fresh.

3 comments:

Kamela said...

you're speaking my language.

(kirstyn) said...

ahhh. you're so good at writing. don't let anybody ever tell you different.

hillschurch said...

Very nicely said!