An exercise in ruthless literary self-criticism
A much more recent piece and a shift from the usual bucolic rhapsodies.
Sometimes it’s better not to see the forest
Once there were two parallels. The Universe forbade them to touch.
a lament of sorts
Like fools we rushed in Like children we ran with haste But tell me you had fun Tell me it wasn’t all a waste
Time flies when you’ve hit the wall
The lingering of that which lingers
or the gravity of choices
The almost winner
scraps from a passing muse
The poetry of over-education
Learning the ropes
The gist of this
What did we learn has no stories yet.
