Lear: And my poor fool is hanged. No, no life? Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life, And thou no breath at all? O, thou wilt come no more, never, never, never.
Pray you, undo this button. Thank you, sir.
O, O, O, O.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Waiting
Waiting to hear back on a few poems I sent out.
Waiting to hear back on a review I put together.
Waiting for fishing season to begin.
Waiting for the day when I live more in the moment not the future.
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