A little bird poem.
A flight that leaves us in distance, even a mere thought it could be, perhaps real is the distance, but once realizing the length…
Idle floating under the vagrant moon I don’t know, want…
Witchery and dark, the crow.
My friend was inspired to write a poem after seeing this photo.
Another day in Nola.
By Wallace Stevens.
Can I be trasported away from this dystopian future?