The hydrandea
pink cheeked nods its head
a paper brain
without a skull
a brain intestined
to the invisible root
where
beside the rose and acorn
thought lies communal
with
the brooding worm
True but the air
remains
the wanton the dancing
that
holding enfolds it
a flower
aloof
Flagrant as a flag
it shakes that seamy head
or
snaps it drily
from the anchored stem
and sets it rolling
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment