I fill my lungs with air — feel something strange
in there — akin to childhood — a winding stair that clouds
of dream obscure — or an azure tree of stars — fruit ripe
and sure — of one — last — reckoning
February 18, 2020
Canvas 355 — white on black, February 3, 2014
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Categories: Drawings, New Poems & Pieces, Recently Banned Literature
Tags: Aging, Art, Childhood, Death, Diaries, Dreams, Nightfall, Poems, Poetry, Walking
