Cool water laps and gurgles
at shingled base of petrous heap...
Waiting for the unwaiting
to appear. The green pigeons...
The witch-hunt starts
for an unexploded bomb...
The sunset drips in hues of blood orange,
Melting into whispers of the softest blues...
I know I’m just a cloud passing by
But sometimes is tough...
Some days I’m a wilted flower
yearning for the clouds to rain upon me...
Your face swims like
a myth...
Muzzle the ape, that
bleeds the tall tree...
I watched you from my window...
I've grown seasoned
to the fact that...
When you talk of
a war on the behalf...
Talking to
vanishing lights...