Stung Eye

The eye of the bee holder.

Wash Don't Run

I was in Reston, Virginia from the 2nd until the 6th attending a programming conference. I spent Monday exploring Washington D.C.

Fall colours hung and fell from the trees. I'll post some pictures soon.

Travelling alone gave me time to read, ponder.

Here's a poem I wrote one night, drawing from the 2004-2005 memory banks. (Mmmmmm, ambiguous.)

I caught, one morning, a glimpse

 of an ought-to-be

  hanging from your lips

I fought, one morning, an ellipse

 of what I ought to see

  shadowed by your hips

I thought, one morning, we'd come to grips

 with that we sought to flee:

  the true purpose of these trips

And now for something completely different: