writing a rondeau
was much like applying salve...

a slow slag-heap-sun
slips into a...

their worries wound up
the - clock ticking torment - of...

Daniel danced like Fred Astaire, sweeping
Ella, his breathless bride, up into his arms...

locking myself in
for the second time felt like...

Reaching through reflective pools
To save a soul from sin...

as Trump galloped past
the finishing post, he found...

He
ate one...

whoosh, across the night
one star gifting my wish of...

the bank clerk knew it
this needs decisive action...

hot grief stings a face
now separated from the...

as another
arrow whizzed wide of its mark...