fragment

I thought it a good idea to trim the sycamore branches back from the porch
then changed my mind and thought it better to sit within all those arms
made from bark and leaves fluttering like green eyelashes. At times laziness
is its own reward. This is what passes for thought these days as I worry
about all manner of strange things, not least of which is a possible internet
scam I may have fallen prey to. Cold Mountain is good for one reason that
is obvious: creditors and scam artists find it hard to reach me and once they
get here they quickly see it's a lost cause. My shack is an awful prize to
waste sweat on. Besides, hawks soaring above a lake's edge and owls outside
your paneless window at dawn is more than enough to make you laugh
like a newborn. Words measure only what is empty, nothing else.