Jumbled thoughts, like my fingers wringing
My eyes fret to and fro,
Searching for you, anywhere, everywhere
I sit proudly, no!
I am not.
I am ashamed. But I must fake it.
The pastures flood, like paddy fields
But this is a cattle-raising parish.
Birds are blown out of the sky
By a breath so strong.
Buzzing, buzzing, BUZZING.
I wait for you.
Like a cat on a milk crate.
