A bench
on horizon
leaf shadow,
a hairbrush of love,
the kind that takes
breath away,
chokes, frees.
Slam the door open
to daylight.
(letter d rebels)
April 28th 2011
I haven't read the news yet.
I hold a little bird that just flew back
from a vision of bruises on alliterative dusk,
dandelions in cement cracks,
a devil with fork drawn on the top side
of the boat-- no fish today.
A newspaper page
next to violet daisies.
Ah! narrow road toward the sea.