Coming through the window—
BBQ, coal fires, wood fires.
And in the sky’s dome,
the incandescent moon, waxing.
A reflection of infinity
can fit on the rim of a teacup.
Coming through the window—
BBQ, coal fires, wood fires.
And in the sky’s dome,
the incandescent moon, waxing.
A reflection of infinity
can fit on the rim of a teacup.