The storm heard our cry

The night was calm

We slept like logs


Waking up to the morning walk,

We met invaders

Lake flies – celebrating an early Christmas,

Formed a thick dancing cloud in the space

They tapped our faces as we walked by in haste

No escape

No harm

Just tap tap tap on our faces in unwanted invitation


We wrote in our minds

But the hands didn’t do the same

We sat and watched

We thought, got tired of thinking

We ate. Drank. Laughed.

We admired – this secluded place

“It’s good for an affair,” someone said.

“Yeah…and running away from creditors.”

See, when words evade writers, they talk – sensible nonsense

And they laugh. They just laugh and talk.

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