easing dark from home
fall slow, low light, that time may
freeze ‘neath my pencil.

products of night read at dawn,
words already alien.

my path follows afternoon deep, where
memory reversed in graphite treads.


i evacuate
with decay in tiny sparks
a beige doldrum day.

from prolonged deprivation
wrought dreams of detail emerge.

let them propagate.
pull a screen before bare walls
to etch life upon.

Critical Response:

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