Thursday, November 8, 2007


When the woodpecker drilled a question
Into the tree
It did not answer.

And when the squirrel leapt arpeggios
Across the road,
No music played.

But when the cloud
Muffled the sun,
It was chilly.


3 Responses to “”

  1. Mark said

    Your writing has such terrific texture. I don’t just read your poems, I feel them.

    – Mark

  2. Barrabas said

    Simple and refreshing šŸ™‚ great post

  3. Soulless said

    Oh this is precious. Full of substance, of zen-like meaning. Imagery and brevity go hand in hand here so well; I am impressed.

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