I am waffling with the rebels watching ripples lose tide
At one with the rest at behest of the crowd
Lone walls to gaze one brick at a time

Come on, come back soon
The front’s fraught with power lines
Boulder dams that will dash dotted hopes
Along minds struck in signature, peculiar fine strokes of the pen

The ink of another day
Younger dark prose embossed on paper bleached sky-blue
Ideas tinted like the night reflecting across the world

Chagall 2017

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