Micropoetry 7-5-2020

praying
to the better angels
when so few
remain on earth

in the fractals
of the city’s growth
we fill the nooks
where life demands

in the quiet
of the moment
before he takes the shot

watching over
while others decide
the predetermined path

dissolved in the mist
I hear the spirits
that blossom from
the mountain depths

 

 

 

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