YOU COME TOO
A second plane flies low over the watcher of squirrels and dogs swimming.
Friday, August 27, 2010
In the storm lash your boat to mine. When it's clear let the tips of the wings of our gliders touch lightly. Rise above your world of noise and jellyfish and glide.
Here in the age of DVDs in the mail and phone calls through the internet and TV on the telephone you have to glide.
My Golden Age is not the same as yours.
Keep trying. There are harder things to understand.
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