Brief and forlorn, it’s a flutter of a thing.

A sliver of firefly light.

A dither of last ember.

Names have never caught it.

It simply is—

and was—

and will be again.

Um, maybe my whole anxiety-panic-OCD combo is actually chipping things away from my mind now?

Of course, my brain would flake off in bad meter.

Until tomorrow…


2 thoughts on “Dither

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