Nature is a noisy thing, and mammoths don’t walk lightly.
I notice buds late to their blossoming, a flaw that makes one realize sunlight offers no clues.
So, the unknown unknowns, as a man in a gray suit once enunciated.
Are humans any smarter than frogs in a pot?
It's a poem about the transformational power of speaking out in the face of thousands of 'fans' booing you.
