I’ve started several blog posts but can’t finish them. All my energy is drawn elsewhere. As if I’m in Limbo, waiting for some axe to fall.
Here’s a pretty poem to tide you over until I return. Something I wrote years ago. Hid away.
See if you can guess what it’s about.
All the Little Lambs
Sometimes I feel like
I lay in a loft,
Through a warped
And I feel
While live lambs