My minds eye sits at the back of a darkened cave.
Cramp quarters and blackness hold both prison and palaver,
whispering nonessential nothings with pure intent.
To a dull and echoing drip drip drip of unknown liquid
that gleams and glistens with the brilliance
of blinded stone.
Welcome back. I had recently thought of you and visited your site. Hope all has been well. —Chagall