On the way poetry what is this, the price we pay? to wander through this wandering spot? and to our every whim we play and hope that we will not get caught. But alas! I feel it’s all for naught: there’s sirens on the way. Share this: Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Share on X (Opens in new window) X Like Loading...