8 at random:
a scratch, another
scritch, scritch, scratch, a noise duel,
mouse digs, writer writes
razor-wind, graveyard
colder now than the death-day,
feeling just as numb
with every splash
frog learns the joy of ripples,
the trance of motion
lightning at midnight,
for seconds darkness is lit
to confuse the ghosts
nerve-ends, confidence,
lacerated by the wails
of unseen banshees
movement in the sky,
restless to discover form,
clouds shape and reshape
jetstream vapours cross
like white swords in a duel
before dissolving
thinking I saw you
but blinded by winter sun,
I blinked, you vanished
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