a single moon drop in the grass.
Walking, they cast two shadows that flow together;
waking, they leave one sun empty in their bed.
they held it, not with ropes but with an aroma.
They did not shred the peace; they did not shatter words;
their happiness is a transparent tower.
The night delights them with its joyous petals.
They have a right to all the carnations.
they are born, they die, many times while they live:
they have the eternal life of the Natural.
1 comment:
Just 'cause nobody's commented doesn't mean we don't think that's a magnificent poem. I know I do. I've come back nearly every day to read it over. Just so you know.
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