a found a mystic’s cloud
today

strange stream surfacing
motion maneuvering mirthfully

a found the tree under the shadow
objects reposing, the light untouched

today was so short
a flicker

as a beautiful face
turning the corner
never to be seen again

empty sand
in my hand
again

but at least
these shoes of ache
brushed by
the mystic’s lake

today.
 

Nihilistic Poetry