This poem is a bit more “trite” than what I normally write. I think adding the rhyming constraint to the regular nonnet form overkills it. Anyway, it’s kind of a “throw away” effort, but in the absence of anything more interesting to post…
(Poem #27 on new numbering scheme)
Walking footsteps striding along like a song one hears in one's own mind, for long seconds, only to prolong themselves among a throng, each wants to belong plunging headlong never wrong, lifelong, strong.
– a nonnet
[daily log: walking, 6.5km]