to feel small
dwarfed by a single star
daily distance
made meaningless

to need not
this, that, these foolish things
air, food, water...
a blade of grass

to yearn so
for simple things, as if
life could ever
be simpleness

this rough wood
will keep me dry for now
and will outlast
my peasant flesh

I'll rest here
where waters wash away
one weary world
with tenderness

8/15/02 - 3 AM

night