from the collection, BAREFOOT & UPSIDE DOWN:
This place spreads
Trees bust boundaries with the sky;
In the valley, wildflowers dangle
Everywhere, simple animals skitter.
Visual harmonies break,
Create a palette of incongruous
And unknown mores.
The sky keeps
Claiming sight as it drifts.
Nothing is still.
Nothing tells me
Anything of truth or untruth.
I have no sense if the clouds are clouds;
If a storm is approaching or departing;
If I’m in the aftermath of a bizarre
Spree of nature or if I am nature
with arms of reaching tree limbs
and shiny dark petals for eyes.
So, this is what I do
I spread my arms
Eyeing clouds, like butterflies, flitting
I collapse on spongy ground
My guts begin to split
And liquid laughter pours
From a cold and rushing spring.