.echoes.

a million words flutter about my head like confused butterflies in a summery haze

7.20.2003

i wrote this piece back in the beginning of june with intentions to post it, but never got around to it... so without further ado... jungle.


it's all a part of this journey
where they ask you all the hard questions
and you try to give the easy answers

you take long strides
(about twice as long as mine)
ducking under this branch and that
as if you are wandering through some kind of jungle
you are.
and you're lost in it.

no path goes straight
and moss grows on the southwest sides of the trees;
and it rains from the ground to the sky
as you become soaked from the bottom up.