The train slices the Wedgewood blue and white,
a metal icicle.
Blowing snow dust glitters,
ghosts sweeping the windows.
Sheath of feeling. Words groping to touch air.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Woman with Flowers 7.1
(7th sketch in series, first iteration of this one) Woman with Flowers Flowers, props upholding the woman. The flowers, fragrant, imaginar...
-
The Buddha says: “ You cannot travel the path until you have become the path itself .” The path is uncertain. Uncertainty is the guiding for...
-
direct link: Tones of Noir music: Alex Bailey, ' Piano Improvisation No 7 .' Do poems wait to be born? A poem whittled out of t... -
What if relationships are the primary ordering principle? What if the way relationships are ordered clarify, explain, and instruct us on th...
No comments:
Post a Comment