Two tidal swells of light ‘n sound awash e’er o’er my senses…
A ring around old cobble.
House. Café. Poet.
Two streams of consciousness.
A dragon’s hide.
Image credit – Japan Objects
The wisps of orange marshal light amidst the blue.
Now sparse the signs of entropied life sit, floating despite th’impossibility.
Through glass: the tiles, in rain-swept sick.
Now mourned’s the passing peace of night, its flight flown with the scorching licks of star-fire at its torn ‘n frayed heels.