Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
The walls of the well as you're falling down into whatever lies below, blur from your sight out into the night. And the moon in the hole in the sky seems so far away, far away with your bag full of dreams wild-eyed and hailed on. Down on your knees again with a handful of sleep and a wondering eye you do what you can, but you find you're digging for icicles and only finding rain. You're digging for icicles and only finding rain