Some things I do, I just don’t get
but there’s more stuff I don’t do
that leaves me mystified
about what’s going on inside
So before I sleep I drop the hooks
let the lines feed out overnight
when some weird things take hold
and strange work takes place
In the morning things float up
that astonish at first sight
like a golden key, a red house
and five desperate refugees.
I don’t toss anything out
as too small or insignificant.
Every detail is logged in a journal
where I seek to make life of it.
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