Tuesday, June 14, 2016


I often wonder what my red eyeglasses see? Perhaps, they fashion what is in front of them into a mandala.

Or what does a lemon see of the knife which slices them.

Moving in a circular motion, what about a very short poem. Perhaps, a tad astringent:

as sharp
as lemon

A mandala to glass.  

1 comment:

  1. 12 lines...

    every other sentence, every other dream