For a Walk in the Park
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More than unstudied
- as though before I learned to pose; more than unjaded - as though before I'd once thought That Again; more than unedited - as though before language, even Alef; before they showed up to be named - fear anger sorrow - I am wholly unscreened by your smiles. At your touch I dissolve to the forgotten land of a faded snapshot: There where longings never cease because they never cease to be the same as laughing a red-haired babe exults for love of Butterflies and Everything. With open hands arms heart she holds a world that offers such as butterflies - being held by it, too. I am less than one year old with you and better, stranger: more than She of the Blue Stroller for somehow she grew - somewhere alone, of course; thus unhurt. And uncautioned. With your gentlest kisses, you found her behind me. I never knew. As though we can re- wind past retrospect, before reflection and then advance, not just unfraught but utterly unfreighted my lips against your skin may move unplanned; unhesitating: unselfconsciously brave despite knowing what Brave is. True, I have miles of words these days and galleries of poses - yet I am all simplest yesses, for you. |
Somewhere Else I Am |
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somewhere else I am there is a man with two walking sticks and a beard full of cherries and almonds; by a skyful of sea in a seaful of sky balloons don't burst when the parrots nibble them for breakfast sunshine beads to a rain and its fall sounds the waves like marimbas; when I lie very very still I always find I'm dancing and in the quietest place between two willows it's hard to tell right now whose hands are in whose hair |
Watching the Planets Remember |
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Once more yet, let orison sound
from our earth for its deep preparation. As the first spring moon waxes to round; rebirth is resounded by trumpeting daffs and forsythias also blare Yellow while bold amidst the timid sticks globe willows whisper Green. Yes, afresh let prayers ring in this season. The swallows have returned to Capistrano, even and this very night brings parity of dark and bright. Tomorrow will manifest light's conquest Again: It begins. Just two more spins until the Worm Moon rises. New roses scent my rooms. |
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Background for this page is from Roxy's Renditions. |
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