Wednesday, July 27, 2011

No longer empty

Lake Joondalup.

When I first met you, you were dry as a writer's brain the morning after deadline. Nothing but pale grey sand, with the occasional few inches of water where a few ducks were illustrating the concept of either denial or faith.



It was nice to see you again, after the unexpectedly wet winter had made its debut.

If I could only speak Duck, I think I would have been hearing them say, "Told you so."

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