Random Scribbles · writing

Random Thoughts About Poetry

Whiling away some time



Lyrics linger in the wake of her passing, and the memory of her scent. The floral arôme that falls lazily to the pavement and lingers.

Oh, to hear the poem shouted by the fog creeping silently up the quiet streets of this decaying seaside town.

The wet smell of the swamp arrives ripe with rhyme and emotion.

Verses flutter earthward from the limbs of the Ginko where they wait to be collected by groundskeepers and hidden from our sight: forever.

Song lives in the words of the poet and the lingering drops of a summer shower.


This Vet group has prompted me to think.