For a moment,
the balcony breathes.
The marigold leans into fragile joy,
its golden head lifted
by the butterfly’s tender presence,
eluding for a moment
the haze of stillness.

(2/2)
#vss365 #elude #vss

Every evening, he
sits still on the porch,
to listen to the old elm creak—
a note the house
always echoes back.

Nobody sees him,
the birds avoid
the elm, and the house
remains invisible.

Three things
descend into decay,
waiting to be lost
forever.

(2/2)
#vss #vss365 #elm