Saturday, July 11, 2009

the hours are . . .

. . . like poetry, all fluid

a few rigid rules

may be taken for

granted


a little surreal

a little sublime

a little like a dream

nobody should define


a handful of friends

a pocketful of foes

a tune to dance to

10 fingers and 10 toes


days like deep sleep

nights full of awakening

a few sunrays, a mirage

a full moon night, unexpectation


subconsciously

waking up the

conscious

all in an hour’s wandering!


-jm

0 thoughts: