Degrees like minutes
momentarily we see
gathering thin air.
Painting by John Constable, 'Study of a cloud sky', c. 1825, 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
For every poem I put here, there are four more never shared, around six never written and twenty-seven partially thought out. For every word...
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