shadows at the bus stop sharing life’s burden
Tag: freedom
three more beetles to attain nirvana
burning strawmans but the weeds still remain
october war what’s left to fix
be quiet be still be you if you have to
mad thoughts consume half the autumn sky
a third interrupts the intense tango of a butterfly pair
acres and acres of burnt grass to feed this flesh
neither the words nor means to celebrate your return autumn haze
must be somewhere here the cold hands I’ve misplaced
elancharan gunasekaran 