Wet as it was
from the afternoon rains
the soft light of moonset,
lustrous through shadows
enveloped the evening
we savoured in whispers.
Old blog revisited
rather be here talking to myself than on social media as the insanity of the dying earth and killing fields are allowed to grow.
D'Etre Raisins
No sour grapes these,
rather the withered sweetnessof seasons lengthened
to aged fruition
chewed introspectively.
Wednesday, March 25, 2020
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