Monday, January 27, 2014
Moss gathers in lost footsteps,
Silence speaks of tree-time
Counted in sycamore rings.
Delta breeze sweeps in,
Rasping through the drought grass
And a scroll's scorched pages.
A caged river sinks, diminished.
Under a linden, a shadow pair
Flickers verdigris into dark,
As peacock fringes fade
Under a curtain of leaves
And obscurity of verse.
Thirst chants a parched song
And a green moon listens.
of fluid dynamics and flight In another dream, Tulugaq, the Raven, flies over the ocean. She, the sea, hungers for Chronos. A drum is ...
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There is a song clinging like a drowsy bat to the dingy ceiling of a dungeon, deep within the labyrinthine palace of my memories, a melody...
Remember Remember the sky that you were born under, know each of the stars' stories. Remember the moon, know who she is. Rememb...