The object of our
search should be . . . the world. A
crow nips at the tail of a small dog and, because it's a Vine,
he never stops. Vines are wanna be trees, but they lack spines. Trump
says Ferguson is as dangerous as Iraq; my Cards cap carries a
terrible history. Don't touch
Cambodians on the tops of their heads, I remembered as I touched a
child's soft hair. Her friend kept his cut hair in the hole of a tree
beside a reservoir; they visited at least once a week. I went to see
purple flowers in the woods near our house because I wanted them to
be mine. Someone said they were weeds, but that hardly mattered.
Sometimes an aesthetics is not about beauty, but about being. The
earthworm's wisdom is involved in soil. Saijo spent his last years
simply noting the weather's passing. If
we're lucky, what's sacred
shifts from metaphor to fact.
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
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1 comment:
OH - the Cards cap. Even following this tragedy fairly closely, I hadn't remembered that detail. I wish I wouldn't forget things like that. "Vines are wanna be trees, but they lack spines" is brilliant, as is its quiet bridge to Trump. Ha. The sentence about the Cambodians is wonderful - how the "I" is doing something gentle and yet neglectful at the same time. Love the weather at the end.
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