At home
my aimless mind
writes poemless lines.
Homeless under
trees or sky,
my lines take aim
to fly.

Monday, May 12, 2014

Of things that dash and things that stay

Heron poised upon the hill--
a javelin of time held still.
Arrested barks of distant dogs.
Fleeting lives of fish and frogs.
A strangely secret oriole.
A crayfish in a river hole.
Tadpoles skittering in the silt.
Celandine poppy's transient gilt.
Dewdrops on a yarrow flower.
The sun that watches, hour on hour.
Ephemeral constant interplay
of things that dash and things that stay.

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