All Flags Are Tatters

Recovering from a bout of illness it seems perversively bracing to read Joseph Brodsky from Nature Morte

All talk is a barren trade.
A writing on the wind's wall.
for it is back from the country of sickness that we realize not only the good days pass but so too does the pain.

Ferron builds to much the same sentiment in a different spiritual context with the song "The Cart" released on Phantom Center. She craftily builds the refrain over the course of the song. First we learn that "the cart is on a wheel" and then that "the wheel is on a hill". We are set into ever more courses of motion (the hill is made of shifting sand) thus agrandizing the view. Until just before appealing to the listeners to "Hold fast to the Mother as she turns us round" we are given a view of law:
And the cart is on a wheel
And the wheel is on a hill
And the hill is shifting sand
And inside these laws we stand.
The song ends with another turn and another again. We are riding not so much standing. Ground to sand and flung to the wind.

And so for day 1726