Confronted with the confines of your hate-centered speech, I choke on disbelief, mind sputters, stalls, conversation moves on and all I can manage is an

Confronted with the confines of your hate-centered speech, I choke on disbelief, mind sputters, stalls, conversation moves on and all I can manage is an
So bound are we by customs, and customary, that seldom do we recognize absence – sparks numbed and motivation dwindled – what is awry morphs
Sensing foulness of mood they slither out from dark places – whirling wisps of putrid insinuation Clever they are, and almost imperceptible but I am
Front porch – a balcony view – retirement’s play. Novel – this place – silence stretches, pauses briefly – a car creeps by, or a
Chance encounter, a simple “hello”, and I reel backwards, grasping… blank the mind a trickster, memory inaccessible, panic pulses a response… hovers out of reach
Comfortable is the state I aspire to today – lounging pants, a weathered tee, and a pace to match. Tomorrow, we prepare: finish up packing,
-daya bhat-
Fairy Tales, Micropoems, and Images by Peter Ellis
Focusing on the beauty. Zooming in on love.
Slow, raw and chaotic. A personal account.
books, writing, farm, travel, family, coffee, outdoors
"Surely there is a future, and your hope will not be cut off." Prov. 23:18
Throwing my soul into the cosmos.
Never placed, but who’s counting?
Verse from an adverse mind.
All pictures taken with Phone📱
Life and love along the way...
my humanity in written form
sharing the stories of interconnection