Waking up at the lake. Walking up to the lake. Raisin toast at the
morning lake. Crocus and ivy and morning glories. Last night there was
lemon and rose lightning. The wind screamed as if to wake the dead.
Indeed, I saw forms shambling in and out of the graveyard all night. One
in particular with an ancient vest and a rusted watch hanging off it left
at around 10:30, and came back about quarter to one. What the hell had he
been doing? I'll never know — wasn't about to go ask him!