Quiet cave valley, it's skyline silver

painted with teardrops grey, a lake of memories

I could've tranced with mob of flies, rusting in

Air, leaving everything behind.

The itching grass snapped me out—

Their shoring sounds echo like raven claws, deeply engraved as unbidden.

Heaven leaking light adds a golden glimmer

in the water, but is it crystal vision to face your

own mirror? Waves, lapped with each other—

Sweet melody— unsinkable disquiet, unruffled

by stinging rain, its vault is still and restful.

The dale fall in confessional quiet, when was the world

So young? A halcyon paradise: one can crave

and grieve for it, the whiff of mint wafted up

to me, I linger the moment on the dew air

for us to be lost, a shimmering engine pulled out.

I'm passing with the flow, a boat floating down

in the convent quiet, a penalty of sapping moment—

I will do it over again, just to capture the crested

rag, flapping with buzzing bees and a dampy

air with saccharine sweet, I've taken a gulf from the stream.

It's chalybeate — thrilling the tongue, potion for the soul.

— 03/04/2023