allow fallow to melt
into the gestured breeze
till whereabouts amid
even the weeds the latch
the silver the inflection
tender how the breeze
sifted through screen
comes spoken as if rain
had rinsed the daylight
wash this first neglect
of conscious thought
by same release of thought
until time joins space
as it is felt
transformed into
a purposed meaning
light as feathers bled
upon the cloth and skin
just rest upon the quiet
autumn colors of the drying leaves
No comments:
Post a Comment