There are days I write poems I love a lottle yet battle whether it makes enough sense. This is one of those. And I always share them anyway and let them be what they are destined to become and never share the fact that I'm not entirely sure about a piece. But you're here and I'm here so let the truth spill. Today was busy. Felt busier. The way the temperature is 30 but the air gets all rebellious and proves itself a 34. Days End is this place. This bed, this blanket, this cup of hot tea and the valley is these walls - hiding me from the world, from the busy and bothersome, the valley is home. I hope Monday treated you all well. I am off to hunt the zeds, may the rest of your day be gentle.

Gif O Clock

Only constantly

Fender

Here's a song about Saturday on Monday and a poster I made about the opening line of the song.

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