between bus stops
“between bus stops”
Mist lifts
from the creek's dark bend;
a kingfisher
holds still
above the water.
In a cedar chest,
beneath folded linen,
a photograph curls
at the edges,
its faces turning amber.
Wind combs
the grassland ridge;
seedheads loosen,
one by one,
into the pale distance.
.
Poetry by arquious
Written on 2026-10-02 at 23:47
Tags Trisect  Procedural 
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