Waking up!

Flowering gears slip, slide,

Ticking acrid, lurid, time;

Dawn approaches fast...

Run

In the middle of

A reprieve; bow season is

Already here...Run!

Brethren

A mine lode richer

Than we can ever fathom

Connects us tightly...

Omen

All this  treasure trove,

Argosy  of discernments,

Sanctifies my being...

Illusion

Instant erasure

Of forgotten vestiges

I was never there

To resuscitate,

Bemuse my presentiment

Of flowing away…