Late poem

I did promise something personal earlier today so just a bit of poetry that occurred to me as I was walking back from the store.

 

Black bare etchings attempting a grey etch on the road

But knowing just a feckless whisper showed

Odious though they be

Comparisons are of me

Echoes of the near past

The tacit blast

Cannot achieve such geographic leakage

Otherwise known as outflow knowledge

Compressive instinct since June

Unaided by the strongest moon

Not of drift

Mettlesome swift

 

 

 

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