Within
Two tidal swells of light ‘n sound awash e’er o’er my senses…
For The Lady In The Dulcet-Hued Bandana
The wisps of orange marshal light amidst the blue.
A Sonnet On The Surface Of My Coffee
Now sparse the signs of entropied life sit, floating despite th’impossibility.
Some Blank Verse, In Which I Indirectly State That The Sunlight Fills The Room
Now mourned’s the passing peace of night, its flight flown with the scorching licks of star-fire at its torn ‘n frayed heels.
