Wander through the burrowed light, 
mud-packed walls breathing warmth, 
a kettle thrums—no rush, just the steady, 
unbroken rhythm of being.

Hands work the earth, kneading sun into soil, 
tucking seeds deep where roots raise memory.

Footsteps soften against moss, 
small strides, sure and deliberate, 
paths well-trodden yet never worn.

Bread breaks, laughter follows, 
cups ...

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she'd faded to a cipher

a silhouette on the wall,

I took shelter in dreams

in my sleep I can recall

the girl she used to be

afore time did us part,

the question I pose is;

oh where is her heart?

no love fills her veins

smile a vague smear

harder than me, she

exploits the old fear

that she will leave me

like a thief in the night

my poor spiri...

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