In ruins I see
what was, but could be
no more.
When land becomes sea
to live they must flee —
fate’s door.
In ones, twos, and threes,
they left on sad sprees —
ashore.
the !n(tro)verted yogi
nomadic, poetic, and sometimes ascetic
In ruins I see
what was, but could be
no more.
When land becomes sea
to live they must flee —
fate’s door.
In ones, twos, and threes,
they left on sad sprees —
ashore.
