 |
| Paul-Jacques-Aimé Baudry, 'Diana Reposing' , circa 1859 |
wolf surrender red near ruse flow
for instance here goes...
a poem
it is only
the mass
of an exhale
the pieces
of me
I imagine
still moving
tuned, a bell,
taut string
and the why
art says
surrender
to myself
I will
and have
always been
me...
I
the poem
am
already
inside you
the me
waiting
to have
more
of you
put and ordered
randomly caught
momentary luck
almost steals
the after thoughts
scent
drives
memory
further
lone roads
open windows
at night seeking
but really though
any horse
will do
in a poem
picture painted
limbs for riding
home to too
me or you
we would
both get through
observer art
reader poem
EJR ©
No comments:
Post a Comment
Hello there ...