The Ascension

Elusive fool
Assuming wit
Fleeting thoughts
And lacking grit
Trying to capture
A moving target
Lacks ambience
In it’s absence
Bits and fragments
Curb, concrete, sidewalk
A stone of perception and thought
Prevaricating articulation with aimless sensation wrought
Gesticulating temperaments, marbles mixed with clot
Thickening, plot twist it seems, and still the elusive fool
Trying to capture the butterfly and using the wrong tool
Butterfly beauty with divination come hither stare
Futile attempts by elusive fools extant in their lair
Soaring birds that fly above wrought with misapprehensions
Evanescent transience transport me to ascension 

About Maya

I like words like "labyrinthian," "kerfuffle," and "serendipitous" because they're mellifluous. I love poetry, pumpkin ales, sangria, long summer days, Fall foliage, going out of my way to step on crunchy leaves in October, live music, Jazz, Salsa dancing, theater, film (foreign and indie), the arts (myriad varieties), dance (in theory and practice) and any place where I can sit outdoors and take it all in.
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