The Trow’s resuscitated – see the blackwhite gable draped along in hanging baskets.
Where once I was I am no more – no longer does that me exist.
Their lines stretch finite.
Your essence, earnestly put forth unto impermanence to weather storms of whetherwhims.
I switch from now to then; from then to now.
Reincarnate, they live as long as us.
Of ink; of thought.
The time that passed.
Notebook completed; page un-blanked; th’caress of wind-soothed heat.
In age-long decades past rises the gilt Zimbabwe sun, the gutt’ral summons resonating – roaring – deep.