Looking in to the blue the dome of incarceration that seems at once to be infinite and minuscule trapped into my limited view from the cast iron chair sanded and repainted on the power washed patio beside the perfectly cut lawn partially shadowed by treated fence bordered with hard trimmed shrubs the tasks that once seemed Innumerable have become repetitious as I await regrowth that once again can be curtailed.
Pondering the framed sky no vapour trail adornment it is not limitless yet never ending like the days of solitude that are a mouse wheel the canopy of stratosphere is the dark and light manifest of irrelevant moving time that has been slowed by loneliness lost without its master of routine I am a victim of cocooned survival.
Golden liquids, white topping blackempty vessels and glasses half fullnight around the table, sitting highbonded by the past, union of the reunited […]