There is darkness in the...
that filters from the sun of a...
Cease turning my green to grey
with wilful acts of nature...
If there be but two
on this twilight moon's...
From the ground
the ceiling looks so much wider...
Red train rested at Rotterdam station
Over the border to meet a friend...
Up on screen I hear them scream,
bright and vibrant, happy and sad...
you are the schwa
of public domain...
Where it not for one to play buffoon
or to say of none we're way too soon...
When your winter breaks into spring
think of new and wonderful things...
Of a mind that’s glad, dopamine-laced silken...
stays awhile, close by, sobre feet planted to...
turn your gaze to power
of life and death...
Is it not a foe who taunts —
that in itself could be borne...