That Is Enough
As for life..... I see it!
But I have yet learned
to read it.
I look for its gifts....
I once drew a small crow on a
huge piece of paper.
At night I could hear the fluttering of
The Man With Green Hair
He pushed trees aside by glances
and turned wheatfields into thistle.
He turned cliches into hymns,
and durges into whistles.
To pool the sand, while my feet walk,
Among seas gifts, upheaved
Leaves the holes that filled with hopes
Of youth I once believed.
The Breath Of A Stone
One time I saw something rare. It was a
I had found it in a field, alone, by itself.
I watched it for 10 years, until I was older.