Hollow be the fellow with two eyebrows but nary a furrow. He squints and he shades his eyes. He grimaces at the prospect of forgotten tomorrow and unimaginable yesterday. The stories stray too far from truth, but only written record can give his lie and scholars haven't come this way in at least THIS MANY moons. Again, for who can stand and doubt when the records have all been swept away, and thank you for noticing.
He calls his friend, the hawk that sits the tree and catches the wind with her beak, the occasional gnat also makes for meager sustenance. The adventure was to begin yesterday but who could say for sure? The road is winding towards the sun, but the sun shifts and the road shifts with it. And it was the same road the last time they had a meal. So who could say if it was his story or he the story of someone else
Up until this moment his furrow had feared reprisal, but at long last it tugged his left eye. Now there was something to not know, not just to forget and not imagine. The road split in twain and tomorrow was already on its way to being forgotten. Was it left or right that they went?
The wind, the sun, the scholars will find them, but good journeys together for the two friends. It's true, it happened yet! And show me your badge, you're not a scholar!
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The musings of a mind. A mind of musings. We as a species put foot to ground, but, more specifically, we as a generation put word to screen. This is just an expression of my youth. Some days I'll express my frustration, others someone else's frustration. Ilya "Red Beard" Nikhamin
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About Me
- ilya nikhamin
- I've got a beard, a bicycle and a camera. See my work at flickr.com/inikhamin. It won't blow away, it's digital.
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