purpose, or nothing
the bright path of rain
through green
water hunting power
desire's forest
(musk of mushroom)
the flat blizzard
of leaving a lover,
or the updraft
anger like a whalebone
stays at the ribcage
a blank page yawn
into a new alphabet
a ladder
for the victim
the dog
at your doorstep
essence of lilac
or first day
of journey
the skylight
or the whole meadow
of tiny suns
others called weeds
oh into the humming
dawn, stumblebeast
with handfuls of butterflies,
go on living.
- JH.
Monday, August 08, 2011
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3 comments:
More splendid than splendor. xo
"anger like a whalebone
stays at the ribcage"
I can feel that.
I like it when you look through a kaleidoscope.
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