3/4 Bottle Jameson's on a rainy afternoon with naught but wood heat and boiled beans for inspiration.

One.
Walking the rain.
Paper hat, leaden feet, face of clay.

Two by two.
Dancing through the sunlit meadows.
Unyielding passive reciprocity.

Three alone.
Sliding down unmarked pathways.
Whispers in the wind.

Four and again.
I sit alone.
Hammered and nailed again.

Five.
I fear it.
I miss it.
I want it.
I hate it.
I need it .

Waiting.....