Monthly Archives: November 2012

The cricket

The cricket has just opened its window, In my ears, to darkness on the other side. Crickets open their sounds to our ears And are sole windows to night sounds. Their song imparts motion to dark sound As happens in … Continue reading

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Watercolor

We came upon the waters, in themselves, That ran deep, under rain drops on rocks Their music falling softly on the morning As birds ran counter to embedded trees. It was the music of the bodies from a mind. The … Continue reading

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The blue cyclone

The morning rain continues from a night Cold coming through bird chick’s cries And now light gently falls on wet plants Their personalities glowing by the hour. Our dying rose may yet wake up and go From the company of … Continue reading

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Texture

This the morning has the texture of plastic In a world of hues, of longevity, of a breath A corrugation, a tilt to a side, a new sound Of a world upside down, a feel of thinginess. Shapes are chairs … Continue reading

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