Well I Wonder

This time there's but 15 between. And in my line of site is a green pipe. Things with feathers flutter in and out of low trees and bushes. A ladder divides the window. Such things, it could be argued, are mere decorations and are insignificant in the grand scheme of fings, but they do serve to provide a clear, if uninteresting, picture of the supposed habitat of the author. Yes, that's me. Author Lee. Shall I go on?