Passing strangers, alert and traveling or stumbling by more long-term, reumy-eyed and fumbling, give greetings, try to ignore, or come too close to space invading.
Pee-saturated remnant grasses reek in summer’s hot blasts where the broil of rotting garbage containers pungeanate, and I wonder – exactly a year later – how we are here, again.
Candid Corvid Productions 