The feral corona of my precious sunspot; sings from the heart
of a collapsing star… without moons or harmony.
Only the perfect sound of a  Lost Hope
building a fire to defy it. A fire so cold it yearns to conflagrate
like an imperial furnace of wishful thinking…
A life, become an Om -
Like an Omen,

{ a bluebird choking on a song }

And winking.