by Suzán Jiván, Mom
& Mom-Mom Suzán
Among the out-of-the-way
obliquely related
golden ages
in windswept
ancient havens
of rare occasions
waxing and waning
split in many ways
stealing away in peeling
phases of daylight
on an agrarian lifeline
of the unlikely
one seed at a time
typified by downright
tired diarists knighted
by titles while cycling
and socializing
with bleary-eyed
weekend misers
like ibex kids
bleating on a cliff
with voice-over skills...
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