To the park, I saunter,
on a crisp autumn dawn...

I journey beyond
the edges of sound...

A silent dance
behind the eyes...

like metaphors
undeciphered...

And here we are
coursing upstream...

there’s a surging
under her skin...

why do you ache
in heavy strokes of despair...

Raindrops descend,
ruthlessly pounding...

I write,
fill my days with verses...

twilight fades
into the cavernous wind-kissed sky...

The old house on the hill sits empty
its still structure a thousand tongues of silence...

The day morphs, takes its bow
twilight bleeds crimson...