... ..mullah ....August 22, 2005   The watery shadow is mine.  I am alone with my thoughts and my supernatural buoyancy.  There was a time I sank with ease.  Now it is difficult to sink.  I weigh more now, but I am lighter. I could float this way forever, but I am required to breathe.  So I swipe water past me and make for the steps at the end of the pool.  There I grab a white towel and drape it over my head.  As I slip brown feet into faggy sandals, I spy a petrified raccoon turd and a cigarette butt near the garden's edge.  The image of a smoking raccoon flits across my mind, but fails to germinate.  I tilt my head to one side and hop on one foot.  Nothing but water emerges.  I wrap the towel around my head and think.  I cannot write so I mull. previous..|..current..|..archives..|..3d quarter index..|..next

©  2005 by the beastmaster