My mind is an unkempt Schnauzer barrelling uncontrollably into a flock of ideas, ideas which mistakenly scream away in flying terror as if I might capture one of them.
I watch from below, not focusing on any individual, just desperate for the whole, painfully unaware that excitable passion tips off the prey.
I’m sure the incessant barking of incorrect word choice doesn’t help my cause either.
So I just sit here, staring up at the heavens where ideas roam home, wishing I could fly, waiting for a fool’s thought to land.
Maybe I should trade my mind in for a cat.