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

Friday, July 27, 2018

birds worship

birds worship 
in a cathedral of leaves and wind
solemn chickadees
like priests and priestesses attendant 
upon the holy psithurism
of God's breath of renewal through buds 
and blossoms
of trees' hope springing anew

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