There’s a beauteous moment of clarity…
When it happens
A flash of prismatic pleasure…
...
The minute of failure
The little boy’s body stiffened, then relaxed. Stiffened then relaxed. Eyes wide open, staring fixedly, and unseeing at the ceiling.
...
Rain upon windows…
Dark bedroom walls
Shimmering pastel mists
...
A worldly man must first insist
That things of beauty still exist
That poetry must… in this world
...
Pastel blue eggs in robin’s nest
Spring breeze blows softly from the west
Kneading ripples on languid lake
...
Words are my toys
I have no others
Words are my playmates
...
Lord knows why
we just can’t read
The handwriting emblazoned
...
No, my friends...
I’m afraid he doesn’t
At least he never has
to me
...