12-27-2021, 07:18 AM
Darker
than the iris
February spoke
in knots ‘round the night.
I guess the eye-iris and maybe the flower-iris?
February, in winter in the places where I am, is a fair moment of moments of dilating sensations, feelings. Play on maybe changings.
Snowflakes fall
into the arms of a street light
The broad, at least in the vicinity, authority and sanity of the occasion. Comforting ARMS. Forming a real thing.
becoming fluorescent and orange
becoming embers
for a moment.
Fragility, and perhaps triteness, becoming, in the insecurity of the current emotion, bold, and, important in the sad insignificance of importance, the warming orange fluorescence provides.
A hint of a more significant warmth and connection.
The metal bodies
of buses and cars
cackle, burn oil
Those cackling warlocks of modernity, the only Modern/current we get to live in.
and pass.
Cold cheek of the year turning,
soon, soon, all feet will be washed
And no period. A decimal of hope.
I'm no good at critiques.
Are you ok with a commentary?
than the iris
February spoke
in knots ‘round the night.
I guess the eye-iris and maybe the flower-iris?
February, in winter in the places where I am, is a fair moment of moments of dilating sensations, feelings. Play on maybe changings.
Snowflakes fall
into the arms of a street light
The broad, at least in the vicinity, authority and sanity of the occasion. Comforting ARMS. Forming a real thing.
becoming fluorescent and orange
becoming embers
for a moment.
Fragility, and perhaps triteness, becoming, in the insecurity of the current emotion, bold, and, important in the sad insignificance of importance, the warming orange fluorescence provides.
A hint of a more significant warmth and connection.
The metal bodies
of buses and cars
cackle, burn oil
Those cackling warlocks of modernity, the only Modern/current we get to live in.
and pass.
Cold cheek of the year turning,
soon, soon, all feet will be washed
And no period. A decimal of hope.
I'm no good at critiques.
Are you ok with a commentary?