If truth is this & I am that-
what is matter, when dependent on fact?
If belief is knowing that you know that you know-
then why waddle in doubt, yet feel comfort alone?
Many poems on my minds & words from my soul,
that get covered in cheese & fall right off the bone.
I found myself in Summer-
a place I hold so dear!
A time to toss frisbees one-handed,
with the other, holding a beer.