Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Goyohka 11.3.09

If only my vision
wrinkled like my face
to see the way
I am seen
I look fresh and new

The gourds hang
from the upside down V's
of dead vine-braids
An old heifer
wrung bag-dry

gotta admit
the first poems
may have been best
worried about green shoots
with feet littered by leaves

The windburned sun
catches the red licorice leaves
of the Japanese maple
Baby monkey fingers
curling for food

How are you
it means it

No comments: