Trees march like cattle
At the crest of the hill
And clouds roll to over take them.
In the tumbling hurry of eternity's pace,
The hill dips its nose at the finish line,
Glacier formed and still in the running.
A cut at the knee where once it stumbled
Only to rise and run rampant,
Incline to outcrop,
Foothill to cave mouth.
Breathtakingly effortless;
Breathless from effort.
This time earth means to win over water.
WhatWhyHow???
This year, I set myself the foolish task of trying to write something every day, and what you see here is the result. None of this is finished, polished, or in any way good. It's usually a few lines at the end of the day when I'm tired, my head's broken, and this nonsense spills out of it onto the page. Feel free to comment away, and if you think anything has any potential then let me know and I might have a go at working on it further.
But hang on, where's the first month? You've ripped us off! I hear you say... Well, yes. I have been writing since the beginning of January, but it's taken me a while to get the blog up, so everything here is a month old.
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