-rain pulsing ripples
on puddles, the spider web
demonstrating the
answers to the Theory of
Everything patent.
“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Unopened mail on the counter, a meal half eaten sits on the table, fork frozen in position of the last bite. A world abandoned mid-sentence,...