Monday, June 18, 2007

learning to fly


As if invited to come in layers of wet pink petals lure with a force beyond vision


Look daddy a face, she said, as I bent to photograph the face I saw in the end of the log. I smiled, a chip off the old block. Yeah cool, eh?


Suspended in motion the brief sensation a pleasure worth repeating.


the missing

as only through form
we realize emptiness
nameless to be free

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