I am standing on a raft in the cold sea, Where killer whales frolic. Marooned and bobbing in the water, The chilly waves slosh over the sides And slop about my feet.
The Professor sat in the early morning light on the common bench, a shaft of sun had struck him full in his face and he had closed his eyes and softly exhaled into the warmth. He was dreaming.
They went missing like a pair of cats that wonder off and get stuck in a neighbours shed. Through the blur I take cautious steps and check , patting with my hand the places
Peanut butter sticks to the roof of my mouth, we talk about democratic social planning in communities. You find a safety in your work, and speak elegantly and articulately