When,
the being, surly murks,
hobbles, heart-bulb hurt,
in furtive mist,
obscured
when
fields of the falling mind, pine
sight-less in a fog-banked shawl,
lured, hurriedly by nothing
more than fear
-I will still believe, it's somehow, there-
that sailboat
with seabird halos
gliding, dearly
down the dusk
with just enough
to love
Dec 31, 2023
Dec 31, 2023 at 3:18 AM UTC
When,
the being, surly murks,
hobbles, heart-bulb hurt,
in furtive mist,
obscured
when
fields of the falling mind, pine
sight-less in a fog-banked shawl,
lured, hurriedly by nothing
more than fear
-I will still believe, it's somehow, there-
that sailboat
with seabird halos
gliding, dearly
down the dusk
with just enough
to love
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