Monday, June 25, 2012

still feet wind blowing


what interesting word choice: rescued. what the corn is growing. the wind moves it. where the sun shines through. leaves parting. where rocks lie, plump and circumstantial. queen anne's lace coaxing up to their sides. the lawn is mown in straight lines. the child's electric car makes slow tedious circles through the otherwise straight lines.

there is water in the pool it is moving. there is water it is moving. there is. water moves. your face is precious to me.

it is changing. who I am to you is what you were, once, thinking. perhaps now I am a radish with a screw loose. you say that I'm peculiar. I make you laugh.

most times, I do not understand why we are joking. still what the corn is growing. the wind moves it.


so much time waiting for a blink.the ding sound signifying. someone is paying attention.

to me, is the whole of it. I yearn yearn yearn then want more of it. crouching in dung at the feet of stern trees. I am a child to them, though this June was a birthday. though, in truth. I feel too old.

the rejected christmas trees bestowed another chance. in this lawn, struggling beside the clover.I want like the wren at the top of the tiny blue spruce: its guardian angel.

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