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+--- Thread: Dust* by TranquilityBase (/thread-25477.html)
Dust* by TranquilityBase - busker - 02-14-2024
Dust
No sense to be made
of this little flower
the color of impending death
importunes
every breath is guess work
arrives no where at all
light warped evenings
take the air at odds and ends
train horns punctuate.
To morning
it’s all beginnings, then day explodes
into identical fragments.
No beginning, middle or end
will satisfy this miller.
He grinds everything to dust.
Original to be found here
RE: Dust* by TranquilityBase - CRNDLSM - 02-14-2024
Nice work tqb!
RE: Dust* by TranquilityBase - brynmawr1 - 02-15-2024
Great job, TqB. Well deserved!
RE: Dust* by TranquilityBase - TranquillityBase - 02-15-2024
Gratified and humbled.
This is a unique village we've got here. This poem would not be what it is without brynmawr's critique.
TqB
RE: Dust* by TranquilityBase - Wjames - 02-16-2024
This is beautiful, the fragments form a lovely whole.
RE: Dust* by TranquilityBase - Mark A Becker - 04-03-2024
No beginning, middle or end
will satisfy this miller
Well Tim- I guess existing in an eternal state is hard for us to comprehend.
Good to see a good piece get props.
Mark