Tuesday, June 6, 2017

The desiccated is alive

Can you hear that yellow bird singing to roses, wooing them to life?  Can you see the roses beckoning words to bloom?

Can you see the roses seeing themselves as an abstract?

Now, picture a salad.  Perhaps, with tomatoes and fava beens, mint, roasted yellow & orange peppers, feta.  And, of course, arugula.  A mountain of arugula. Enough arugula to inspire a haiku. Imagine.

desiccated roses seeing themselves -- abstractly

1 comment:


    Earnestly in the sweet dawn the courier must deliver the flowers. Wanting only to win her approval, he rests outside among the fragrant trees. The sun is an orange planet floating in the auburn sky. He does not see her sister hiding behind the flowers drooping in the heat. He wishes he had worn a hat, and sips the water from a canteen owned by his father.