A man of words and not of deeds Is like a garden full of weeds And when the garden begins to grow It’s like a garden full of snow And when the snow begins to fall It’s like a bird on the wall And when the bird away does fly It’s like an eagle in the sky And when the sky begins to roar It’s like a lion at the door And when the door begins to crack It’s like a stick across your back And when your back begins to smart It’s like a penknife in your heart And when your heart begins to bleed You’re dead, and dead, and dead indeed.
I went out for a five-minute walk. The night had turned into September 10. I found myself in a cool breeze－ The first such breeze in a long time. The kind that reminds you of the days long past, Of those quiet nights that felt forever. The eternity lasted awhile－ Then I got to Ministop.
OLD PHOTO OF THE GREAT CONTROLLER OF TIME SECOND ONLY TO ETERNITY
RECENT SHOT OF A FRIEND WHO HAS UNTIL WINTER LIKE ALL THE OTHERS