diaric, poetry

Shots Fired

when: can you imagine?
me giggling at the goofies firing
they blanks; me snapping shots
of Jupiter, healing and snuggling;
watching antics on the river and reading parable;
when the times bring a processional
of fatherly silence and his shell.

we both write poems, though,
and i’ll run the process down anew beating path.


One thought on “Shots Fired

  1. Pingback: saison calendular | bardic bullion

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