May 24, 2017
I have a huge internal energy cache and the need to share words with a friend. Long past dusk, but the path still visible, a thermos my only luggage.
Across the stream a bridge was built. Rocks thereunder suffice as chair. The trees are green, my shoes are red, shrouded in darkness all around me these colors live their nightly life.
I brought no companion, only this hot beverage and my thoughts.
Minutes turn into an hour. A mug a mug a mug. Earl's reserves are low.
They'll never catch the wacko sitting by the stream alone at night drinking tea pondering life.