There are no words that I want to say,
No poems that I want to write,
No images that I can paint,
Or a vision that brightens my mind.
I live on a hill called Indifference,
And time flows differently here.
I lay my little thoughts to dry under the sun,
And by afternoon, they have evaporated.
I watch the skinny trees around,
Bending to the will of the wind,
And I...