a whisper to invoke the grey
high street pigeon pretending to be a gargoyle
concrete in the rain dead coral
watching the summer sky unfold iced tea
the rain leaves with a piece of our quiet
a dream of gold feathers interrupted by the rain
ritual soul bath this body a forest submarine
the mind empty where do thoughts go to
nightfall we make a list of grey limbs
smothered between her moons
elancharan gunasekaran 