“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Monday, October 7, 2019
following
in fews and some succinct
far betweens
where seeing is belief, a chasm
yawns
-wait-
let me reassemble this and that
together
it will come
Open
in relaxed moments, boxes
like these
corners
converse
wait and see
or not
and never mind-
prophecy, like karma
thinks
a lone to only one
conclusion
there is no watcher here
a wake.
Painting by Charles W. Bartlett, 1908 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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