Ephem’ral Immortality

Somestuff to present to whomsoever ever reads it.

Jazz/Outside Observance Only

A gaze a-gaze across the fold.

FOTABTFOTN.

Take syllabic space ‘n empty it of possibility.

Lying, list’ning.

Write it; move on.

Vissuhrah entoombed; brightist star.

Watashidake.

It is a song of poems – different parts in different verse throughout a night exchanging stories.

Let me/it, at last, then, rise, buffeted by sound-waves.

I have/I will have written in the waves of echoed song.

A spring begets a stream becomes a river raising tides.

A gradual, rolling rumble from few spots on the horizon brings a chorus for the dawn to sail its orange sunlight o’er.

Hikari kawa.

The breeze feels like an echo of a cold too cold to bear, as the gull glides on its currents and the waves of winter light.