The cloud's travails
are wispy and true,
gliding on the winds
our companion moon blew,
blanketing the ground
with a slightly shadowed hue,
an odd, eureka hand some
distant machination drew.
Saturday, January 16, 2016
Saturday, January 2, 2016
Poems and Prose #129 - Point
Some future day
arrived,
and my mouth opened up
quite wide,
as fancy after fancy
swept in like a tide,
leaving me in this spot,
once again, to decide.
arrived,
and my mouth opened up
quite wide,
as fancy after fancy
swept in like a tide,
leaving me in this spot,
once again, to decide.
Poems and Prose #128 - Baroque
An alien landscape peeks back
from over the hill,
as I scale its rocky face
with hard-acquired skill.
Though my glove clenches stone,
it feels just barely real,
the sediments here seeming
more like passages than seals.
from over the hill,
as I scale its rocky face
with hard-acquired skill.
Though my glove clenches stone,
it feels just barely real,
the sediments here seeming
more like passages than seals.
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