Poetic endeavors can be tricky. They can point to a deep reality or they can be like a tangle of vines obscuring the light. Here are some of my offerings.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Wide Open
Remnants of broken clouds skimming across the sky like thin waves on a broad beach. Fading from pink to white, they carry the lofty expectations of a new day. Under their gaze, there are birth & death, love & hate, crime & compassion. Its lid now open, the great yellow eye perceives all, preferring none.
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