IfI wereto writeevery dayfor onehundred days,would my soulbe purged ofthis malaise;is it a thingto be dredged,dragged up –twistedand tiedlike tatteredbed sheetsknottedtogether;is therea remedyfor thisscourge;or is thisan inherentrestlessness,a fiery bluespark of eternalangst ignitingpassion – a callto write? (Originally posted February, 2017. Image my own)
Expectations artificialliving in an urban junglelonging for nature’s calm – time moves too swiftlybarely registerlet alone participate We are guests in our ownexpectation’s dysfunctionlicensed for depression a smorgasbord for abuseintentions mislaid,disappointment unavoidable The ego pretends to be openbut she’s an actress off cueplaying out a sentence – condemned to basicspraying to escapethis dystopian malfunction. (Image […]
One Woman's Quest II 
The difference between the horse drawn wagon and the new machines is that the wagon would distill back into nature but the machines take generations to do that. Passed plenty of these big toys on the road trip, lots of dollars in the fields. Nice tones in your shots.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Paul. I once coached a boys’ soccer team, maybe up of rural boys. When the city boys would taunt them and call them farmers, they’d retort: “Yeah, well our tractor costs more than your house”!
LikeLiked by 1 person
So true here too, much money in those toys.
LikeLiked by 1 person
VJ, these look like photos I would have taken. Wonderful entry 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, you do teach me, Cee. Thanks.
LikeLike
Is the horse and buggy a wood carving?
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It took me a minute to see the big tires in the grass!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, they are well hidden.
LikeLiked by 1 person