Moving on a same circular line. Neither in nor out, always on the edge. I know in advance all the dots on that path, I even gave a name to each of them. And I don’t worry any more when I stumble on some. I just get up, wipe the dust, smile occasionally and move on. We’ll meet again, I say. I believe we will.
end of May
in a glass of wine
Linked to Haiku Horizons prompt “submit”