The setting sun was in and around turquoise blue Before; the clouds roar—thundered thorough. …We were playing football, with a puffball fungus When, sapling willows shook with such a ruckus.
Children its safe - Santa won’t catch alight Look the yule logs they're now burning twice as bight As is this spirit refreshed with ice Or is it granddads dancing - beyond price.
I am but a shadow without substance I cannot cling to flesh or to the suns embers I am but the flame yet not extinguished I cannot dance amongst the moving waters
Fried bread, Lord, who’s still not; been fed. Not me a little voice said… Who said that? A park duck! Or some hard luck Indian fatherless kid. Eggs and bacon, God, is there, no!
Purges are needed in a forest: The strongest have to fall and com-bust. In-order for the weakest the poorest To grow - regenerate their lushness… —They need a whole new subsistence: