The oldest and most persistent archetypes gnaw at us.
He walks these parts without his coat.
Wrap my feet in lily pads.
O how I love Midsummer’s Night.
With sauced goose and deviled ram.
We are so headstrong when our dreams are unfastened from reality.
This fight never should have happened.
Left my heart there long ago.
Like they are whitewater rafting through the silver screen.
Alone on time’s highway…