Does it see the seeds of its parents?
Or its children? Or the fire
of being alive?
The same can be said of the flower
of the fig which I ate this morning.
The poem that needs writing today --
what is it reflecting
upon?
"What about the green vest left on my bed after fiesta night?" Out the window she hangs a rope meant for escape, and writes in her notebook Let IT Further On Not BE Exact.
One bite of the cantaloupe should supply an answer.
INTUITION (2)
ReplyDelete"What about the green vest left on my bed after fiesta night?"
Out the window she hangs a rope meant for escape, and writes in her notebook Let IT Further On Not BE Exact.
One bite of the cantaloupe should supply an answer.