Play of the swallows (my poem)
Play of the swallows
Evening skies are busy
An early moonrise it is
Three days until full
Slopes turn orange
Dirt roads stay quiet
Wait not for potentiality
Rejoice in what transpires
My poetry is but an attempt to record feelings. All poems are written in one go. I do not tend to their aesthetic appeal, as that requires extra processing which detracts from my truth in the moment.