There is a story. It eludes my grasp. When I work to shape it’s contours, it soars beyond me.
birdsongs
the rival for territory
continues
There is a story. It teases and hints at being told. When I reach for its structure, it crouches back into shadows.
traffic drone
another cicada
sounds off
There is a story. It’s palpably close, yet impossibly distant. But when I wait for its essence, it descends like soft rain on thirsty ground.
summer breeze
birdsong and cicadas vie
with machinery
It’s Open Link #296 โ LIVE Edition over at dVerse. The Pub is open! Come join us!
Frank J. Tassone 
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