Ducks. Moons. Eternity. Tamed memory.
Little things I keep alive in my mind.
Your presence. Essence. The place in the world your had. It’s still hard to find anything that will ever replace.
Eclipse. Moonshine. Moonstone.
Pentagram, in a illustrated book.
Never, ever, even being.
Your words that saved me. And these little things I do. Again. Again,
Pain gone? That’s a comfort. For some.
I’m trying. Trying to be worthwhile. Again. Again.
Desolation in the empty.
Insidious clouds empty snow. But they are fleeting. Dissipating.
Worthwhile? What is that to a tiny snowflake? To a duck on the lake waiting out the rain? The life that flows through us, it’s trying always to escape.
The world, the essence of it, comes from our little bits of time.
Yours, to brief.
mine still lingering
I ask why
Some ancheint anchor sitting off the coast of the sea of tranquility
Shining off darkness to the dark sky
Blue eye wide in the sky as she sarches
Widower now from the knight of claws
The enemy is above, about and keen
Hurried footsteps, but still trying to be silent
Quiet, night again in a few paltry seconds
Pain, exquisite pain, captured then red
Banana peels on the seat next to me
Feelings of bitterness from a few angry old fashioned men
Grumpy cats in suits, waiting for fish for their own horrible catch
Sucking on a cough lollipop
Coffee smelling jackets, sweet feelings of silken cloth on my legs
Little bit more of a sudden drop in the way things move around
Changed and charged to the chanting of the hazy summers
Rising steamy visions of the mirage
Eagle flying and searching
Barely a cloud above the scorched red earth
A creekbed just below his ancheint sandles
Waiting in this sunlit virtually brings you to feel hell
Then suddenly a whisper from the tree
The dance of the new rains will begin