Nothing

The rain comes and goes.
The days, too.
I wonder at the trees,
The ornate wild flowers …
how have they never lost hope?

It is forever lost and found …
Much like forgiveness:
Train rides to the edge of the earth
Return on the Great Ocean Liners.
All the while we’ve never gotten out
from these flooded deserts.

Soapbox Artist: collecting art & literature of the worst kind