For Want, To Have

Birds in the midnight



I saw
the fawn
on the hunter's lawn.
It was pure white under the night sky, and surrounded by a slew of attendants.
How quickly it left.



A: The problem was twofold; there was an eventual, asymptotic regression toward what the real value was. There was also a damper on the crests.



"Use less colors in your work." I refuse.
I'd rather you drown in confusion than not hear what I have to paint.



No, it is too warm outside.
When it is warm, things move faster
I don't want them to find me.





Perhaps it is a contest-- let us see
if he can rebuild his empire, rewind the heap of stone towers before the sunset. Restore the commission. The guards to backstep through fear, the flags to take to their color, against
the pure white that graced the night sky.

I'm just sitting here
staring at my toy blocks.