every day, I am closer to the
losing of language. my faculty
for finding the scent:
failing. I no longer can
make sense of the
pretty messes.
there is just a parade
of color and listless
weed. as I look back
and look back. for what
I used to see. for
what I used
to be.
I will die having found
and lost
these beautiful things.
TAGS: DailyHoney | Dogs | Fall | Fall2014