Thursday, March 19, 2026

fulgurites

the last 24 hours have been a blur

one city  - two cities - three fish 


sand in and sand out - a sunset btwn blades 


a sunrise i forgot to wake for - it all 

splinters down - we slowed time 


down for a day: even though i still worked a bit 


for me and my friend. how days come

                           upon us and leave - i want to write 


i really do. it irks me to not but what else is there to say 


friend - no friend - sand is what we had 

and there is very little that can be built on 


it that stays - yet i have read that sometimes lightning 


hits - and sand becomes art - a vessel used 

for flowers or lights or for whatever is fathomed 


in realms of silence