A time on a Wednesday wasn’t what we knew. Filing mindsets. Can you get up now. Can you piss. Can you speak. It is Wednesday. The wall gripped itself and ran down to the floor. We hadn’t seen that. -Somewhere the sun shines, smiling, like they ask for. Smiling at all of you. Smiling.
It’s a confusing thing to look at a moon. There were no footsteps helping to be heard. Hush little..Don’t say a word. -A young child holds onto the moon from a place within they fear not know again. -Hasn’t it been a nice day. Hasn’t it not yet rained. Haven’t we all had a wonderful time. -While the smiles walk on.
He had said much but much was said without seeing. He wasn’t my friend though he thought so. In fact he thought we ought to be best of friends. Mud has a funny color and at most times we cannot see it. A hole deepens and we approach and ask if we might want to follow it down to see what’s to find. We ask, ‘Should we?’ and wait and the trees care very little about our question. However, the frog is again here and replies, ‘If you were to lay your small face against the mud and listen you might know before asking.’