a day without them
feels odd and stiff, unfocused.
Haiku, done daily.
sometimes in the car
i tick off the syllables
and forget the miles.
too tired, i type out
a palm-full of seventeens
and now I can sleep.
a day without them
feels odd and stiff, unfocused.
Haiku, done daily.
sometimes in the car
i tick off the syllables
and forget the miles.
too tired, i type out
a palm-full of seventeens
and now I can sleep.
Make no little plans. They have no magic to stir men’s blood and probably themselves will not be realized. Make big plans. Aim high in hope and work. Remembering that a noble, logical diagram once recorded will not die.
