is not to attract a bee
or praise,
or decorate the bride,
or say what words
can’t.
As it is,
in its own seed,
beneath the dirt,
about to bloom,
after its petals fall,
leaving the vase empty -
remembering.
is not to attract a bee
or praise,
or decorate the bride,
or say what words
can’t.
As it is,
in its own seed,
beneath the dirt,
about to bloom,
after its petals fall,
leaving the vase empty -
remembering.
You needed to see him in concert with a group to tell each other later what was so funny your ears couldn’t keep up your mind couldn’t keep up your breath couldn’t…
old george is blind and he walks north on passyunk avenue not counting his steps, just brailing the sidewalk with his feet. he’s got years in on this job, he hears his…
Go back! I have no response to your warmth, your nearly bursting buds, hundred-legged crawlies. Can’t you quiet the birds? My words have turned dormant in your joy.
Do we assign human traits to animals and wax rhapsodic about the miracles of nature because somewhere deep within ourselves we remember when the world was unformed and lonely… When I touch…