As a nocturnal breed,
Mr Honk never fully adapted
to his condition, but even he knew
that the parchment nomads,
like hidden pilcrows,
favour serene moonbaths
under the waned crescent
once all the trinkets of the day
finally run their course
and even the turntable
can’t outshout the chorus
of aspiring seagulls.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
hidden pilcrow 