Glide, loop, float
gulls on a
crisp breeze.
Trudging with
groceries, an
elderly man.
Dim blue glow,
a clock—what
this long in-
complete life
sees in the
wondering dark.
Death, so close
to the mail-
box at noon.
Glide, loop, float
gulls on a
crisp breeze.
-
Author:
Vipassana (
Offline) - Published: February 22nd, 2026 23:29
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Offline)
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