Joseph Ceravolo from Fits of Dawn

There was some thing an old
no presumed by really growing;
under travel perhaps.
I wait sickly that come
come how, own that
we could all face makes
day think approaches.
Harm notions steering touched yet
tepid hunch bring at
could none feet gloom hedge. Save!
How? the sun microphones;
strike and somed giving done must
yet nod danger fu-
pressed out
Motioning more nevered wind may lull
stretted koob-reville sprang.
When has I now wowed?