1895.

Time is a trapped, wild
animal, caged by a clock's
static dissection.

1894.

As the day wakens,
the sounds of life begin to
emerge and expand.

1893.

All the guileless hearts
offer tender overtures
to acquiesce to.

1892.

This night's slight, hopeful
haze of dusty twilight holds
me in its beauty.

1891.

You see me through a
window, painted in moisture,
muted to vision.

1890.

Always seeking some
promise, impossible though
its believing is.

1889.

Too often I am
seduced by melancholy
instead of people.