Out of odds in this city
Shaded colors of daylight
Stepping into the night
Sphere of life
In continuous strife
Light synthesis
With no clear dividing line
Or memesis.
Bold branches, strong roots
Silent sounds of walking boots
Thinking outside the box,
Fleeting sight of love on the rocks Melody of an echo close,
Just when a moment froze
Thought encounter unexpected,
But standing corrected.
Out of odds, no explanation
For this strange vibration
Of gravity's causation.
© Colleen Yorke. All rights reserved.