| bookend dream in motion
or 'trying to understand myself' Reaching hands, air rushing grasping fingers, skyhooks hands, bookend the arms how did i get to be this far off the ground? the browns of the earth mingle, moisten stream one rush of grain through my fingers one in a million, immediate summer bright eyed falling blossoms ever pass in a paling view summer fondles the restless mind and speaks true of peaceful spaces quiet isolated water places gentle wordlings sound pretty on my ear the little bright bells jangling free deep within our cryptic pockets and sorrow paws the balled handkerchiefs crying stain in a corner, embracing seam songs hang weeping, silent as a cloudless sky petal eyes peeking through criss-crosses in will-o-whip crowns today, on her birthday i watched them roll up their glittered lace-trims shalome � 2005 |