The days of brittle spring have come down to these:
The days of light and grass and fallen flowers.
Leaves unfurling and polished in the sun
I am struggling for words lately. It seems like every time I open my mouth, or open myself up, I am shut up again. So many things have gone wrong lately - there seems barely a day that hasn't contained some new kick in the teeth. I was struck by the vision of a person in a fight. Taking punches, going down and getting back up again, taking kicks, and getting up again slowly, and even more slowly. Today something happened that put me on my knees, and I'm starting to wonder what the hell I keep getting up for. Surely it is an act of insanity.