Fistfuls of my clay,
Puddling into mountains of disuse,
While my exasperation springs forth
Wintry gusts of air.
I wonder what they will say,
The denizens of this place,
Of their absentee landlord?
Fistfuls of my clay,
Puddling into mountains of disuse,
While my exasperation springs forth
Wintry gusts of air.
I wonder what they will say,
The denizens of this place,
Of their absentee landlord?
Discarded Recollections 