When the trees Move

April 25, 2011

On a tip of grass

yellow days drip past

the ever unfolding

of surrounding fields

    If ever a moment did last

    a dharma boxed untrue

    this light living within this blade

    this could be the last

Feeling wet

from the shroud of night

bare feet grow younger

they breath at last

    A moment of passion

    an undoing of  the past

    an uncontained detonation

    mystical in dance

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4 Responses to “When the trees Move”

  1. meredith said

    Beautiful.

  2. follow the thread
    thank you
    37

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