HALF a troubled year nearly gone
and it can feel as if none
of the year has really begun,
particularly with little sun

to ginger hope in the flowers
and bring resolve for all hours.
There is lightning at The Towers,
and a thunder in the showers.

In the morning walk to the void,
there is a cracking to avoid.
Was there, a-clapping, an android?
Whose ultra move, never foiled.

L’abime est toujours dans la tête
et quand le coeur est inquiet
I put in ice
all very nice

CHRISTOPHER TRUMAN