Saturday, November 28, 2020

I erect a fence around my small plot, but why? What is there to take?

Storms come and uproot maple and oak. Will my fence keep out the wind?

I carry nothing and roam, like the other creatures, and we strike a balance. Provision appears and shelter is found.

So small, a bug on a plate, yet still you love me. Why do I not see?

O! Let me walk with the wind.

(Letter #2,149)