Tossing Leaves

An August afternoon

it’s late

A strong breeze soliciting


Shaking trees

Tossing leaves

Cotton clouds behave

In a reckless fashion

I hold my breath

A thought wrestles

With a memory

In the archives of

My mind

There are renegades

Time watchers

Time blogs

Those gatekeepers

Of tomorrow’s reality

We measure Time

Yet, never quite appreciate

The subtlety of its essence…

Thatcher Doran

About pmisteil

Hi, my name is Paul though I write under other names like, Thatcher and Paolo, I love literature, art and architecture their passion and drama....the contradictions. The notion of Truth-who is the person behind the mask? Or does it matter! I like long walks and longer conversations over cappuccinos in a cafe with atmosphere and the rest is a journey!
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