Written In Ink

Neil Higgins

On balmy summer nights,

listening to the pulse and the rhythm,

intense and extreme,

dancing with joy at the orchestra of life—translucent

and metallic,

flying in any direction,

a waltz of adaptability,

a transformation.

Silence drifted into the wind

as sand filters a renaissance,

written in ink

upon papyrus clouds drifting

into space.

Comments +

sorenbarrett May 15th, 2026 18:51
This poem drifts through music and dance to the written word. Well done

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