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.
The pane that stands between millennia.
Caravan; road; canopy.
Creation pained; a look that’s lost, or hid…
‘Ray’byun camels c’lect their stores in sanded, varnished vista.
Shape ‘n send forw’d the currents riv’ring by! With your time-warped scraps the bed doth lie suffused!
Flame stands in its ungentle passing.
Nurtured’s the roots of grass that grows again.