Sprawled in the mud. A night’s broken sleep. A day’s pressing demands.
The cicadas cackle anyway. Leaves still rustle in a passing breeze.
Life goes on.
Everyone riding dragons gets thrown. The true riders get back up.
cool evening
a place to make
a stand
for dVerse Poets’ Quadrille 133, hosted by Lisa. The Pub is open! Come join us!
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