The bark of eternity,
an armoring sure

An oak or a maple,
their majesty pure

Below their dark cover,
time circles in rings

Where destiny spirals
—as residents sing

(Martha Brown’s Woods: March, 2021)

i miss you
and i'm tired of pretending
that i don't

To that first strand of Grey....

That pointer to agedness.
Bridge between cradle and grave.
Fine line between ode and dirge.
It is wisdom. It is senility.
Subtle reminder to how on earth, we are briefly gorgeous.
That first strand of grey.

@incognitaio

Not every time
After a storm
Will a rainbow shine....
Even though you can’t see it
It may still be there
If you look closely
Through the clouds
Color will shine
Sending it’s rays
Down to the ground
If you get lucky
You may see double
Meaning magic will happen
Leaving you less troubled