It’s Texture

17 Jul

The Flashbulb – Eyes of June

Tacked thistle fog tugs dusk down

with sounds and musk, bristle bound

sack tied with bent and browned

wire.

Dusk in a bag

 

is

 

night runs.

Raging silence, calm and ominous.

Fluid. Knowing. Calls to all of us.

Subtle cricket drawl embalming us.

Night is an egg.

 

if

 

yolk broke

then morning has awoke. Breaking through the lunar skin

crashing down upon the land. And, I’ve never seen the sun so grand.

 

image: dirac3000

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