How is it with you I’m good at chemistry?
Today in a row.
Let night make of it: love. Let daylight make of it: friendship.
My refrigerator auditions for operettas.
At work . . . skipping stones.
…and I took the star less traveled.
Maybe death comes when God runs out of rodeos.
Each of us can count our lovers on one heart.
Just make all the somedays soon.