I just thought of this, walking down the street, on an autumn day. It is my favorite poetry "bit" that I've written, yet because it's from the past (about 11 years ago) I can't really tie the feeling into anything, so it stands as a lone marker to that day:
Quote:
The clouds in the sky are dismal and grey,
Shattered glass lies in the narrow street.
I fear that the cold winds will sweep me away
Along with the dead autumn leaves at my feet.
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-speculative
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"You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you." -
Ray Bradbury
Ellipses are my minions, they... do my bidding, mwahahahha!