sAyingsometHing

Art, poetry, digital art, photography, criticism and essays.

4 Jan 2009

Vespers (84)

shiver astride the beams
of moonlit
summer if you must

mist curls freehand
to asemic
parallax

why don't you fallow
(be thy name)
until the corpus
of this evocation
comes down to
what remains
incessant flight

solo as slalem watched
from every which way
in the distance
a night prayer

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