Somewhere beneath Period Three Implies Chaos
In the whirlwind
of strange, unexplained, half-forgotten phenomena
of dirty mugs, empty bottles, open pens;
Between the dog-eared copies of Slowness and the Prophet
and half-corrected fourth grade notebooks
with strawberry stains smeared generously on top
Lies a cream envelope she’s looking for:
Buried beneath mountains of duty and paper.
Modified from the original on the LotrPlaza.