Artifact

Indeed, man wishes to be happy even when he so lives as to make happiness impossible.

Saint Augustine

The concept reveals again

my folly,

but I dig anyway,

possibly reveling in the

absurdity

swirling like dust.

I'm losing sun

but I go on, more

mindful, now, of my

frailty.

Escape to these dreams,

of saving the grace

of nurture and sweetness

but this special place

has become

my folly,

as I dig, still looking,

still amazed, yes,

but still looking...