wherein lies
the heart
of evocation
that strikes
the mirrored
hour’s toll
vague abstractions
courting fear
or starkness
of the bitter
cold
biting
with its sharp
precision
meteoric motes
of mind
reassemble consequence
once shed
in distant
folds of time
florid wafts
drift
through the ages
softer
than a maiden’s mien
torrid thoughts
slip
through the pages
faded laughter
aimless dreams
rage once pent
from whence forsaken
ageless
as a lover’s touch
brash and bold
our burdens
linger
longer than
the artist’s brush




Well written.
LikeLike