I feel dearth…move…under my feet


a beggar, I

scour my barren bellum

for beauty

–once abundant

becalmed by its lack

& burgeoning begun,

since seeds mine

you don’t find

every day

–no you don’t–




But I do.

About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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