A collection of fifty-one words of little worth other than the individual value of the letters they are written with, expressing stuff that has little value other than the worth that any individual chooses to embellish them with, arranged in a sequence that shows thought maybe, design perhaps and most certainly a degree of foolishness. But, as Shakespeare said – “ A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.”

One year

Maybe two.

Snowless winters

Barren springs.

Summers passing

And autumns

Failing

To bring colour, or fall.

Darkest nights,

Starless,

None at all.

Days that break

With no suns that rise

Leaving

Only

Empty skies.

One second

One minute

One hour, maybe two.

Moments

Of eternity

Endless

With no you.