Crumbs
fall from tables
but do not nourish,
nor inform,
sometimes wound.
Never cease
to fall
or fascinate
in new geometries
and hues.
Perpetual,
inevitable.
Detritus
of life.
Looking for
a base,
a foundation
from which to launch
and build only
to fall again
R. James Sennett Jr lives, works, breathes and chases his muse in Louisville, Kentucky. His work has appeared in numerous publications for which he is grateful.














