a moment dis-missed
then and then again
trees fell like bodies
this time dis-appears
as if ours to waste.
Artwork by José Nin y Tudó (1840-1908), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...
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