I've seen tomorrow & it's the same as the patchy glow of yesterday. The distant glow I was aiming towards turned out to be weak, washy, and thin. Though the days turned I had not grown an inch. What looked open had just closed up again.
We row & row.
We stay the same.
We're clutching oars.
We row & row
& reach distant shores the same as where we left & we're the same weaklings hesitating to give in.
there is only the grace of wind.
I don't remember how I found this blog... I think maybe I googled your name one day. I left the browser open and forgot I had found it. Until today cleaning out my browser windows...
I don't remember how I found this blog... I think maybe I googled your name one day. I left the browser open and forgot I had found it. Until today cleaning out my browser windows...
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