so little remains of time’s entrapment, where grandeur is promised in dawn and constellations at sunset. each autumn is a forked tongue blindly striking at life and winter’s evenings force to the surface every hunger not melted by summer. spring puts on the greatest show of all by revealing all of life that has endured the race started at mind’s shallow weeping.

past the leading shadows
past the notion of hope
past the thorns of change
past the waters of forgiveness

the well sings
the well beckons

until the bucket is lowered
and alas
she too is empty

One response to “untreated”

  1. Ayi Ariquater – I am known as Ariquater or Sofhaallow.


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