Well, folks, this blog was set up for a number of reasons. First and foremost, to give me an outlet for my creative urges. Secondly, to allow me to vent my intellectual turmoil - hoping for a resulting order. Thirdly, to allow me to make my views on the political, the educational, the emotional, and whatever-else clear to those who read.

Well, I've certainly attempted both the second and third categories. The one thing I haven't done yet is the first. But now that's gonna change (all original content © 2003 Austin Fusilier):

	"Snow On Maple"



	The crisp, clean air

	With it's wafting white flakes

	Over this field of crimson leaves, fallen;



	Those old English buildings

	And their ivy-covered stone

	Vacant 'round the autumn field, wall'd in.



	Seated on the edge

	Of this low flat rock,

	I watch the silvery crystals float



	And wonder at the gray sky,

	The ground of solid scarlet,

	And the painting twixt them both



	Until the west wind mars it.