After the Witch’s Hour (Poem 26 of 30: 2016)

There, basking in the November memory
Replayed on the tail end
Of an April bloom
Wishing into feeling
The detection of particles
Of Jasmine perfection
Obscured in the omni-colored resistor mist
Hanging in the sixth degree
Holy chants mouthed out
From their hiding places in the 1990’s
Recited in rounds, endless and silent
To amplify these mindful saunterings
To find abstract in being open eyed
Patulous to the overlooked obvious


About Moly

Average, boring, self-involved human. Twitter: @CultOfCocktails Facebook:
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