a friend is coming tomorrow, i think
with clouds careening by, the moon is nearly full. the body aches to sing we wonder if it’s winter, as it rains: this ground, so lush with weeds.
with clouds careening by, the moon is nearly full. the body aches to sing we wonder if it’s winter, as it rains: this ground, so lush with weeds.
relax. you’ll find an island: hollow, melting into waves and blown around by wind. relax. you’ll be right here until there’s no place left to stand.
no tree enjoys its root-crown being buried and i am no exception. roots grow out, the trunk grows up. big rocks, hard soil create such graceful limbs.
a cup is lifted. all else disappears. forgetting all, becoming drink. just for the sake of setting down a cup a table comes to be.
a valentine! this old man’s feeble fingers trace the lacy edges, bewildered. what gift have i to send? the tiniest breeze sings songs that stir the blood.