A hazy moon
plays on a
night blackened pond
The breeze tickles
the water in
a rolling staccato
Who I am to witness this
wonder?
Would it be just
as alluring
with no living soul
to capture the drama?
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
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