Without physics, I smell the air
Heated dirt, petrichor
Without the rain, dryness spells
out the words, broken lines
Looking up and out and down
Making analogies, but not comparisons
It is that, it's not like anything else
Memoir, memory, unrelated echoes
Environments harsh and gentle
Tropical and desert
Resentments, built to be alleviated
Assumptions, built to be deconstructed
Awkwardness, built to be waited out
Balloons, stuck in a tree
for days
A dead sapling
That which is in front of my eyes
Vagaries
Apiaries
Hexagonal cuts of glass
Soap bubbles
A little pain
Self-inflicted
Fantastical imaginings,
Fictional, non
Scattered thoughts
Unthought out
Carried along
Doubted drought
The smell of the dirt
The breath of the soil
The sun in the trees
Roman Ryan 