625 – Frontiers
The thin blue line kept growing every day.
• • •
The thin blue line kept growing every day.
Tiny iron teeth
Gnawing at the roots
Of a single purple rose
Within my head.
I never really liked the color blue. Not for any particular reason, it just feels…wrong.
The man was nothing but a blur among the shadows of the garden.
Delicate wings
Of silk kimonos,
Flutter
In the autumn breeze.
Small time capsule,
Held between my fingers.
It was a dark and stormy night.
Silent rhythmic mantra
In the morning light.
“I screwed up really bad, didn’t I?”
A cup of fragrant tea on a cold winter night.