Poem By delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........
sun stutters through a tattered shade
creating an opalescent patchwork
of gently broken beams
in the sequestered garden
a toppled obelisk
in the mine
breathe as though oblivious to the here-and-gone spark
it is a day as like
as unlike as all the others..
the locket is worn smooth, its faded contents secure...
we are pastiche...all the rest is eldritch and sward-bloom