
Cuts the atmosphere,
blazing through clouds in its way—
bushfire in the sky.

Cuts the atmosphere,
blazing through clouds in its way—
bushfire in the sky.

Slicing through the light,
casting shadows on my path,
many shades of green.

Victory trickles,
on pavements, on alleyways—
one love emerges.

Layperson’s refuge;
and learned’s weapon of choice,
poetry is life.

Pick about and poke—
curiosity isn’t sin;
seekers are finders.