Desert isle dweller swims downstream
Passing oodles of chaste charity shops

Deep swamped in castaways chasing
Seeking dreams among castaways’

Castaways – Look, a cupless saucer
Its history, its future unknown now

A momentary fleck of identification
Desert isle dweller swims upstream

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on July 13, 2020, in Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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