365 Days. 365 Photos. 365 Thousand Words.
Climbing up or stepping down,
Or floating till one does drown,
The end of all seems the same,
Sad paupers, or the wealthy clown.
Many a long winding day,
And little does one have to say,
As the edges, just tend to fray,
Would just want them taken away.
Everything is so fragmentary. Yet timeless.
Transient, ever changing.
Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.
Took a random panning shot.