Backward, echoing, mirroring
It is provocative to postulate
He's seen enough of his mistress preening.
Clouds of blue and yellow remind us of our home.
As odd as this might sound, I think I was a "writer" from my very earliest childhood.
And, then at some point, I said we should only do rejects-like dumpster diving for poetry.
Dimensions but not directions divined.
Klee’s kids skin their knees
and cavort under
blue-sheeted shrouds.
sunward stretching
Leonard lengthening limbs
We stand by the winter pond, Look each other in the eye, Then look away.
Thoughts About the Earth series.