‘[...] salient fame, carved in all the city walls.’
Why do emotions feel so alien?
Purposely adrift in the echo of past mayhems.
In the reverie of farraginous memories.
So, here's the sixth haiku from the series. What occurs while all souls are asleep (well, almost all).
Remembered historically, forgotten personally.
Then I am home
Under the canopy of a run down street shop
And warmed by the stick of cigarette I spent my savings on
A walk home in the rain, with a fresh perspective.