meeting
to make a melody: my only task. i ponder when i should decide. prince and callas mingle with the freeway. singing in the shower.
to make a melody: my only task. i ponder when i should decide. prince and callas mingle with the freeway. singing in the shower.
the sound of rain—a dampness in the skin. one knows, but doesn’t quite believe, that winter nourishes just as much as spring— within cold bones: hurray!
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.