Imitate the silence within me.
Be it the falling of autumn leaves.
The impressions on the snow I see
Or dreams that saints may weave.
Be the fragrance of the velvet mirth.
Be a stolen stone from the earth.
A shade of darkness and so it be
The silence that is left in me.
Driving down Skeleton Coast
-
Driving down the road
in the midday sun, scorching
white the sky, melting
into the bleached sand
on the horizon
behind waves of heat
rising into the ...
8 hours ago

