Blather “is words. bunches of words, strewn about in a twisty tangly web of pontification, insight and nonsensical delight.” Exposing the intertwingularity of language.

I used to love the smell of freshly-mowed grass.
It smelled like barbecues at dusk.
Mosquitoes, kids with chicken greased fingers
butterflies, and Spring.
The hot sun on my freckled face.