Ideas are clean.
They soar in the serene supernal.
I can take them out and look at them,
they fit in a book, they lead me down that narrow way.
And in the morning they are there.
Ideas are straight.
But the world is round,
and a messy mortal is my friend.
Come walk with me in the mud.
-Hugh Prather, Notes to Myself
And for another Friday literary bouquet, join Kimberlee Conway Ireton at her blog.