The blowers
The blowers are invading. Their back pack machines screaming to make humans safe from ever having to walk on leaves - they push the debris to the edges of the paths we tread, forgotten in the corners of our eyes. I can’t stand their howling. I can’t stand my paths laid bare as if nothing has ever happened there. Rent is due, I am out of money,
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Comments 3
so it's good to find comfort in the arrangment on those shelves.
keep that kind of comfort in you heart for the day and you will be OK.
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they should give awards for that
the 'i always have nice things to say' award :)
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nice or not, I just try to speak the truth..
or at least my incredibly biased version of it;)
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