Some of my friends swear they are, but I'm not.
(sonnet #MMMMMMCCXL)
Rain. Just a whisper as how twilight thence
Steals thinly 'cross the ist more fragile scale
Of wet? I caught that note in sweet all hail
To say "it can't be--!" puddles' ghostly sense
Now winking lightly from the blacktop, whence
That subtler voice of traffic hissing, pale
In deeper shadows' lonely wake, t'avail
Was't true, and phone recharging, what from hence?
I'm sleepy. Blackened silhouettes hulk fer
Good measure in the darkness, like a crew
Upon some ghastly mission as it were,
But I'm too tired for aught now, lying down to
Effect right in this stuffed chair. Call it poor,
And one espresso long gone, kiss me too?
02Apr17c