"I saw a bloated body as it tool'd downstream - 'twas a man festooned with jewels!" "How long ago? Maybe I can catch him?" [Dives in] this mate, a man who was quite dim. "April Fools', my friend, April Fools'!"
flags flapping, twisting on a line, colors bright on the arid mountain -- desolation décor
the parting clouds divulged a deep blue sky and lapping waves were proof that time passed by but only so gently that I couldn't say if time ran true or told a subtle lie
The march of time is chopping at the world like rugged heels that hack the rocky ground. It feels as though the Earth, it has been hurled, and as it was, sped spinning round-and-round. A nauseating ride, it is of late, and only getting faster by the day. I have no time for dates with my own fate, and have given up praying for delays. I'm hit by pounding waves of happenstance, and random acts of near haphazardness. I lose some hours adrift in blurry trance. I'll schedule later dates to feel distress. Yes, even though I know that date won't come, I'll play the game as if I won't succumb.
the cone looms as the city's backdrop, drawing the eye -- some things are prettier in death than in action
There are times when the water is a perfect mirror, when setting sunlight is scattered into a million hues, and when clouds drift so low that one feels one could jump up to scratch cloud belly, and in those moments the world looks fake, but feels more real than ever.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 