The pampas grass sways in the soft rain.

Lanterns hover above water.

Amid the reflections, the joviality of night-smiles fade from memory to silence.

I feel spinning cells within me shift like a tide.

I once focused on how to bring things together.

Now I meditate on withdrawal into the forest's cycle of light, shade, and sound.


(c) 2018 / Frank LaRue Owen (Wandering Stone Lantern) / purelandpoetry.com

sound: Steve Roach, Early Man

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