
DAILY PHOTO: Sân Bóng Sóc Hà
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between snowy banks,
a silvery river
slips through cold mountains.
As many of the ones that aren’t war-torn or underwater as I possibly can.

I hope they say, “He was kind of loud, never kept to himself, and we always thought he might be a serial killer.”

Today is the first day of the rest of this week.

Performed? Not yet. (Unless you count “Crowd Member Milling About [with No Lines] – #7” in an Elementary School Christmas Pageant.) Given a speech? Yes. Unless it is completely impromptu, it is nowhere near the top of my list of horrifying life events.

cave hermit
can’t see farmers in fields, just
brown to green to tan.