 | | 13/01/2012 06:52
Sur le blog Amy Nelson
wild roamers and friday the thirteenth,
So the tree is bending to the tune of whistles, and I am warm beneath dusty white ceilings. As I was sitting on the tawny couch I call my shore, I howled for my dogs. I like how they've learned to sit like a song bird on the couch above carpet. I wanted to play. But when I howled, I forgot they weren't home, because they're out exploring the weather. Lately, I've been collecting thoughts of Animals, I suppose in the same way a drifter collects thoughts of home, or a beach turtle collects thoughts of seashells. I am constantly looking through windows at furry squirrels, black painted birds, and white tailed deers. When my eyes aren't on the wild roamers, I...
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