A time that will turn upside-down the chaos that was so close to a calm. It
bashes about before a black winter night and begins a season of spring. By then
borrowed newness will soon grow old and melt into a season of summer, spent
crazy days and sleep lazy nights under a twin of the dark. Backwardly turning the
colors to a dizzy display flaunting with the fancy frenzy and rush. So the
cycle rolled again and I say to myself I lived through a year of calendar pages,
December through January, as we pass the blinking bushes.