the setting sun paints clouds with a broad palette, bright white to ink black
Cloud Palette [Haiku]
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The squirrel's life 's an acorn hunt: forage and hide the nut. But a feeble mind requires that it hide them by the glut. Squirrel happiness is fragile no cache is big enough to be certain it'll make it through should the winter get rough. Oh, give me the tardigrade life, not a doubt it'll survive. No food, no water, vacuum of space and the thing 's still [bleeping] alive. Rather than gathering plenty, I'd rather need much less, or, at least, not be so mindless to hoard in great excess.
Everything is dull before the world changes. People live their rituals, complying with habits. But the world will change, change from one day to the next, and not the subtle, unceasing change -- perpetual and ubiquitous -- that has always been. No. This will be an eight megaton shift into the new, and nothing will ever be as it's always been. Never again. It will happen without warning or precursor -- without a hint that the world is about to be revealed, to be discovered to be something wholly different than anyone ever imagined. Welcome to the new now [prematurely speaking.]