August 9th, 2006



Dozing dazed while suburban machinery rattles and growls sending dust and smoke to soil the pristine sunlit air at the treetops, I'm aware of the afternoon as languid heat and penetrating glare. Not even the lawnmowers can keep me awake. I melt into the day's decline, waiting to roll over and find the full moon staring at me. I'll probably be awake through the aching hours and then regret this nap. This would be a perfect time to die, but I won't be that lucky.