“S” hissed toward my heart
as from Eden’s garden!
Sibilance! As seven
suspicious snakes.

A loquacious theater upon
the lagniappe stage of life.

The word. As an ancient
bookstore i shall call,
“Vellichor!”

My Soul! As sanguinolency within
my dying heart. I watched the
group of wild mustangs rush
into the purple red desert night.

Then lost eyesight.

Forever.

:: 09132021 ::