2.03.2008

The snow is a crunchy-squeeky under foot.
My best friend makes things of beauty.
Pretty stars are hidden by the veil of cloud,
but I know that they still see me.

Today I splurged on frivolous rations just to make it seem like home.
My little pantry proudly fills the shelf that sits awkwardly above the refrigerator.
Plastic bowls and mugs and plates are stacked in bold green pairs, like in some magazine for the thrifty home-maker.
I'll paint the walls and hang my coat and spread a rug out on the floor.
I wont come close, but still it's nice to know I'm not alone.


The day has exhausted itself.
I think I'll go to bed now.