A thousand words endeared again
To a rusted pen and a poet’s muse.
Withering verses settled in synchrony
Within reason and thought’s contours.
Vagrant, vacant words sound
More sense than their silences.
These quartets cohere to meanings
And flit in familiar nuances.
The flux of flowing thought
The flutter of a shy and queer emotion
Coalesce to concoct, again
My dose of poetic magical potion.
…..
