Li Po And Tu Fu At The Edge Of Space Speaking Poem by James McLain

Greetings friend, skilled in thought unlike wine patiently
sits at your feet, how long.
Unlike thoughts sitting words that wait as time flies
a sparrow waits who is seeking a door made of crumbs.
I to am bothered as was the ox by pesty wingless gnats.
Is it you to that I dream of as I sleeping,
dream of us standing at the edge of time unable to.
Moving forward or back chasing words of folly that leapt
from our lips as we spent our youth.
Yes, It Is poetry cannot let us reason in rest until he can
hide the rice from the children in worlds of light our liquid robes.
Is It Poetry sleeps the sleep of friends caught in the spiders silk net
made of space and time without hands to sleep on.