He loved to walk the bank,
within gray dawn.
All the lake’s waking
riding on the morning mist.
Suggesting.
All his stories,
a lifetime to collect.
No one else could know.
Surely he was on to
something he could show.
He’d always found,
an ease, a release
drifting within the fog.
A place where ideas
could break free.
:: 01.22.2024 ::
About EPRobles
Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love...
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