5 years ago. Saturday, May 30, 2020 at 11:25 AM
Freestyle accompanying phone poem.
Shelter is a pretty illusion,
a grass hut in a hurricane.
I offer my arms and soft words of safety
against the all devouring wolf of time -
relentless hunter.
Our only escape on a very narrow bridge,
sways with each breath, each step.
Suspended above darkness and void.
This moment.
this moment
this moment
is everything
is everything
our pretty illusion.