Coming to the door late, after a nights work, I found it locked. Before entering the other way, I looked up, and all the stars were burning, marvelous in their number, and in their light.

with the passing of time, to some recollections there comes a greater richness, and depth; and this is because he who views these things has grown, though in what way it may be hard to determine. But even the smallest of steps forward yet is a step forward, and, with the will to be, that is all that is necessary.

Recently I saw while on a walk two seedpods; one lay cracked and empty, while the other was whole still. There were no other seedpods about, except high in the tree. This struck me as so poignant a scene, that I could not help but write this verse around it.

A sketch, perhaps a metaphor.