solitude sleeps
at a slow summer’s wallow
in madness
I muster
to miss you
will lost,
summoned chimes
in the clasp
of our past imposition
we splayed
into static imposters
what life is
in laughter
when farewells are left
and release
rends
but loose-leaded contrivance
returned
us to dust
swept
and rebelled
as the sun swore its vestigeof vengeance
the west burned
to weakness
before we could leave
sable clouds came
to wrest
and I
in this clement
caressed none
Max states: “I write about the things going on in my life. I am a feminist, humanist, cat loving musician bound by whimsy and the incessant analysis of hyper-vigilant observations. I am obsessed with words and rhythmically woven wordplay.” We are honored to have him as a member of our tribe. He writes at Max Or Not
Max, or Not 