In which our hero, who was born to write songs, tries to figure out his life with help from the interviewer.
Thursday, August 10, 2017
in my dream
in my dream I was young again lying in the soft, wavy grass in the field that had no end my dog ran to me ready to lick my face excited glad that I was here. I could die that way, I suppose, and it would be merciful and sweet like a whisper of wind that refuses to stop