These are days I am fed inspiration by every fractal of light that passes through the field
Everywhere my eyes fell there was life
This corridor between lanes of madness and ineptitude
Natural tranquillity creeping back in on the margins, wherever a berth is given
Gnarled cypress, veteran, relic of time before the decimation
A ****** of crows is not burdened by the thinking mind
They disappear into her embrace because they were born knowing what to do
Oct 18, 2019
Oct 18, 2019 at 10:23 AM UTC
These are days I am fed inspiration by every fractal of light that passes through the field
Everywhere my eyes fell there was life
This corridor between lanes of madness and ineptitude
Natural tranquillity creeping back in on the margins, wherever a berth is given
Gnarled cypress, veteran, relic of time before the decimation
A ****** of crows is not burdened by the thinking mind
They disappear into her embrace because they were born knowing what to do
A poem about a bike ride with my little girl.
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