1278.

A game of saving
that does not recognize its
own set weaponry.

1277.

Upended hearts and
the intentions that wear down
their so needed tread.

1276.

The weariness of
the benefactors who must
stay tuned to giving.

1275.

The work of saving
never completed. Always
another need found.

1274.

The sky is dressed in
fantasy tonight. Dreams and
heroes on soft clouds.

1273.

A voraciousness
masked as escape. The center
from which we all come.

1272.

How hungry is this
ground? Always reaching upwards
for better fodder.