Maybe I don’t have enough to fill these
days, I mean pages, I mean, I do that
bit a bit too much but continue to
hope my pen can cobble some minor
magic as this glamour lately is
sea ice in February as I fail
to get the cheese out cleaning another
dungeon as the prophecies foretold
and then a tune but so softly I
must pay close attention or they
are lost as the kingdom slowly
dissolves in thin smoke debt and need
but the dog seems to like it she
gets to go where she wants and when