This tree waited for the rain to stop.
[daily log: walking, 1km]
Day: October 3, 2021
Caveat: Poem #1890 “Or you could just say he tripped and fell”
ㅁ The dark was absolute, obsessive, blind; it piled up like an angry ghost, dismissed, and lashing out it sent the author down till spinning like a leaf he tasted mud.
– a quatrain in blank verse (iambic pentameter).