Ten days beyond a city sunrise.
The footfall flux meanders.
Whate’er shall I write next?
Your essence, earnestly put forth unto impermanence to weather storms of whetherwhims.
No rhymes for reading; hearing!
In nature’s nightless, new-born form I met the mossy fern.
The time that passed.
Neurotaclismic chasmmind find pain in memorandemonia
The city spreads its sprawl.
Poetry books for sale!
Poetry collections – bespoke & not – for sale!
In spreadhaze hue…