Sap Poem by Armadillo Poet

Sap



To sit on the roof tops
and observe the tiles

In the low lamp glows of
the city of dust clouds

We see the shapes
of the gypsum
shine in fronds

Looking up
They match the leaves

Then folding out our hands
interlocked and then spread

We see that we are
something quite different
than gemstone and plants

Thursday, January 12, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: animals
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