Éponine

Attention lavished only as your arc falls to conclusion.

Tanka From A Slightly Diff’rent Universe

A diff’ring
(to the usual) time of day,
adorned with diff’rance.

I used to sit in the wind of the morning, hearing them shout out numbers.

I keep my seat, for now alone, my mind as the morning and the city: awake and peacefully awaiting more.

Finally.

I give voice to her name again, though I do not shift my gaze.

Cities in parallel, blended; the nearer past and ancient times.

Stillness. So still, so quiet.

Told through tense interpretation, their tales light the night and meet the morning.

Exaggerated, fabricated praise.

A day about the harbour. A night around a fire.

Momentum felt as sep’rate moments: such is time.

For All The Syllables, The Words…

The sky encompasses the earth.

Knaves and jesters, all.