This poem is a living thing.
it is intemperate, moody,
calm and collected in some moments,
filled with passion and exuberance at others.
This poem brims with vitality
words pulsating with wonder
shadowed with ache;
lines thick with insights or insults
often suffused with careless beauty
Be careful with this poem
or it might wriggle free
escaping your grasp
slithering off into the grass
never to be seen again.
© 2025 Bruno Talerico
Stafford challenge 163/365.
Desert Dweller 