Swirl, On

So. Thinking...

The day was pristine (though some of the harvest colors are shifting grayward, as leaves fall free of branches).

Still. Towering blue skies and all that.

Earlier, a small ash-colored bird fluttered up to perch on my windowsill. Cocking its smooth head to the side, it watched me typing away.

I said "hi".

I've been thinking of painting again. I've been grooving to the Spoon track on the free Wired music cd that came with the November issue of that magazine. I have been gradual, this week.

It is night now, and the wine is a swirl on my tongue.

Thinking, still.

"I've got stuck in the words..."