"Kolp me to see what I hide behind my tree" said the mole clenching his fist with baneful bombasity
long drawn strides fill my day. confusing jumbled thoughts fill my nights. walking home tonight the strides weren't long enough and the thoughts, well, they made all too much sense. the ripped leaves fell and i hadn't a clue to where they landed, but i kept at it to lead me back, to remind me of those thoughts, that image which i convinced myself didn't exist, but there it was preaching the word which i mindlessly gobbled to please. lost in conviction is wrote "jezebel" at the thought of love in the worst sense as it happened beside me. each played follow the leader but i waited until it was my turn to be the goose. patiently in wait to what seemed like days for a simple release and nothing more. the image not shattered but kept alive, untainted, and churned the desire, sparked the thought that maybe she's alive, somewhere she exists, not to the key but with thoughts just the same. these thoughts, jumbled as they maybe, make sense to me as she did though no one could ever make out what she truly spoke, she spoke of love, life, family in the purest sense, and nothing more.