It is uncommon and natural at the same time.

In that bleak no tomorrow of only today

the rain returns with a familiar slap.

The languid tones play out.

Reckonings, a stutter-step forward

like some dream we’re a part of,

apart from.

Categories: poetry, prose, writing

Tags: , ,

8 replies

  1. The description gives an aura and aesthetic edge to this poem, Bill.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. a poem,
    I see.
    You’re trying to supplant me.
    Prepare yourself to digladiate.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. “Get a life, with this dreamer’s dream”
    Easy, right?

    Liked by 2 people

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