ay the space between the curtains

to the world or rooms behind or past them

the birds that fly in the skies above

alighting in the trees

the bees in the tiny flowers of the grass

and the unknown creatures within the hillside

all this goes by past us while we are elsewhere

wars rage in the distance

sticks and stones may break us but words and thoughts are what kills us (or drives others to)

such is life.. or the lack thereof