Indoors of My Oaken Fortress.

Talking is tracking through
A treasure of ill measured echoes,
As riding in and threading out
Being replaced indoors of my oaken fortress,
Broadening the forest of forgone mess
And flush with drought and even less.

Categories: Art, Creative Writing, Drawing, illustration, Musings, Photography, Poetry, WritingTags: , , , , , , , , , ,

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