poem –
There is a place,
beneath the rain,
where red wild flowers grow
It is a scheme,
far from the scenes,
of shore break nights ago
We never slept,
the feeling passed,
lost at the end of a decline
The letter sent,
inked permanence,
to the address that you left behind
In a far northern space,
where grace,
drips slowly off the sun
Find the time to say,
thank you very much for the fun
“It’s like Tolstoy said. Happiness is an allegory, unhappiness”
.. unhappiness a story”