the lost man chronicles
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this supreme dawning beauty

Admittedly, I cannot deny, that I am charmed by the horizon every morning from the purview of this, my ever-disenchanting suburbia.

Today, it was a star and the sliver of a crescent moon that together swooned me as the sole lights piquing through a silver lining of altocumulus clouds.


I could not escape offering a reverent gape in awe of this early November dawn.

For almost every time I step out into the cold brace of twilight, I want to take a picture of the magnificent sight I am privy of beholding.

Alas, I never do, if only because the gross web of wires strung across the rue hideously obstruct this wondrous view and vantage.

And so, ultimately, I depend on my absent-minded memory and my diurnal routine to remind me of this supreme dawning beauty each day anew.

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