Words of the Constant

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Kind

Survivor

Tumbleweed

Wilson P. Higgsbury

Who knows what that tumbleweed has picked up.

What mysteries are within that mobile sphere of branches?

It's on a journey called "life".

One never knows what one may find searching such diaspore.

What secrets do you hold?

Flee, bouncing coward!

Tumble on, weed.

Who knows what that tumbleweed has picked up.

Alone and rolling through life.

The chase is on!

Ms. Wickerbottom

A dried collection of plant matter.

THE UNDISCOVER'D RUNT TREE

It looks highly flammable.

Come back little tumbling ball!

I wish it was sturdier so I could chop it.

I like me weeds settin' still.

Come back!

IT COULD CONTAIN MANY THINGS