Timeline.

"And for once it might be grand to have someone understand."

Juicing the
fruit
with my teeth.
Heavy-lidded eyes.
Swallow slowly and
lick
the compass;
show me which way to go.
Gravity-filled
steps
on the dry land,
wet shoes.
A sinister violin sweeps the background away--
earthy tones
and
splashes of color.
Focus in on the future.
Maybe
the baubles will amount to naught.
Maybe
the baubles will amount to light.
I'm not a mathematician;
I wouldn't know.
The name is
effective,
though.
What are you telling us?
I couldn't tell you.
But my
educated
guess is
simply to
follow the compass.

Vanessa. ((