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,,,,~«†%%#                                          #%%†«~,,,,
,,,~«†%%#¶               #,,,,,,,,,,,#              ¶#%%†«~,,,
,,~«†%%#¶#                                          #¶#%%†«~,,
,~«†%%#¶##              Morning Quiet               ##¶#%%†«~,
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,,,~«†%%#¶               #,,,,,,,,,,,#              ¶#%%†«~,,,
,,,,~«†%%#                                          #%%†«~,,,,
,,,,,~«†%% I  Sit  In My Cubicle  In The Work  Mill %%†«~,,,,,
,,,,,,~«†% And  Feel   Somewhat  At  Peace  -  I'Ve %†«~,,,,,,
,,,,,,,~«†     Entered A Bright Anomaly. Morning    †«~,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,~«               Liminality.                «~,,,,,,,,
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,,,,,,,,,, No  One Is  Here. There'S  Dust  In  The ,,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,, Air. A  Strong Light  Shines Through The ,,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,, Windows,  And  Turns  The   Office  Into ,,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,, Something New. I Pretend  It'S  The Sun. ,,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,,                                          ,,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,~    I Speak With The Plants In My Head.   ~,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,~« They Are Getting Too Much Water, Or The  «~,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,~«†  Water They Get Is Of Dubious Quality.   †«~,,,,,,,
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