Air

It's different

Here, it moves a little

Strangely, sweet and 

Flies. A place to 

Own each molecule,

A breath of monster

Hiding underneath: 

A beast inviting, 

Standing, sighing

In-between

The night and day.

Epoch

Day on evening,
Wave on sea,
Tiny tongue of answer
Recommend, and
Flee

Diaz

Once woken, crave a gentle
Token, pass a motion
Of exchange to
Give, to grieve, to
Hope and ration all redemption
Save for he. But look!
Defied in sun of mourning,
Rent deepest, jetted coat in
Tatters, patterned solely after
Seeking this alone, to roam.
To find a sodden pathway
Home. It beckons, nay,
Demands a fellow follow,
Stray a little, vagabond.
Stay and wander, carry on in
Wonder. Lost that song, it
Haunts and chants and
Echoes on as little piggy
Finds him none.

Breath

That peace, that
Moment of Monet in madness,
Silence but for wind and
Wave and shimmering grass:
That echo of a
Second spent in solace
Filters through a dusty pane
And paints in sepia tone
A place to hide.