Narcissus stared at the art work

before selecting a martial sleeve.

A fusion of Japanese gangster

and Polynesian tribal.

Hand function was straightforward.

Ranging from tea ceremony

to stone crusher,

crocodile wrestler

was the choice.

She thought her bank authorisation

into the machine

and dropped her old arm

in the recycling tray.

...

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In poetry, autumn is approaching death.

The mists of receding memory

part briefly in the shortening days

to feed the fruits of wisdom

to admiring young.

The dark night of winter

is a short blight

before life springs forth

again in proud perfection.

Floral beauty and rich crops

have spread their radiance,

fed their progeny, sown their seeds.

Done their job, returned to earth

to ...

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