Oil painted red sky summer Blue moon June, and tailor-made memories Skimming the surface like a skipped stone Riding the ripples Of an early summerβs amplitude Like a light ray runaway, Dancing with darkness anxiously on the edge of the abyss A lone wanderer, Searching the soil for some semblance of a soul, but Our bound hands were meant to dig Never to hold
Skip a stone and watch the ripples underneath a gray beard mountain.