i was telling sister it was
spring again even though
she knew this but I wanted
her to know it for a sure
...
flashing
stop, stop, stop
the magnitude
of repetition
...
so long to believe that you have
seen it all, there is always more
behind the window that isn’t so
easily seen, the glass is always
...
is this poem about me, what
were you thinking of, whom
were you thinking of when you
wrote these words out, it
...
we age no more than the river
each day wears away at us all
and the river runs red with sunset
away from the shadows call
...
there is a person
beneath my window throwing rocks
come out he says
...
I shot a bird with an arrow once
one sad and sunny day.
It wiggled a bit and jumped just twice,
and then lay still as May.
...
The moon arose and showed it's face
and blamed its light on a brighter place,
and an aging child on the ground below
dreamed of the things he will never know.
...
i wrote
two lines
in the mud of this
paper painted
...