Sun begins to climb back down
left it's wake of test and life
sinking happily into slumber-the day done.

The ink drips in long shadows
along the page as if each letter
each stroke-could be the last.

Inferred lines of nature that
bring the bits into a whole and then
again-endlessly recast.

Penned by my hand on the 2nd of Scarlatan, in the year 608 AF.