~Somewhere by a brook~
I say.
A Freudian slip.
You say What? What was that?
I say ~Nothing~
but can’t keep a leash on plodding thoughts
that say
~Plant a small bush~
~One that’s out-of-place~
~One that will thrive on leavings~
***
Image: Flickr.com
Aremyfeetofftheground 