have spent this morning, counting and measuring thoughts.....
they are like, little exotic birds, that have been caught, in an ornithologist's net.
are there enough, or are they in decline do they have enough weight, will they fly, if, or when, i let them go? or will they wander around, in circles. dragging, a broken wing behind them... will they sing, a cheery heart-warming song, or will they, croak and caw and cackle.
or will they, fall lifeless from the net and lie, dead on the ground. to frail, to cope with having, been caught, counted and measured.