Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Friday, March 1, 2019

Nutcase

Nutcase.
May be that’s what I am.
I look
at the fallen foliage of autumn,
dead and dried,
and I fall in love.
And then there is you!
You with your beautiful smile.
You, when you lower your eyelids,
like nightfall.
You, alive. Vital and spirited.
Nutcase.
May be that’s what I am


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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.