[written during the last writing jam in Richmond ~ August 25, 2012]

 

there is nothing

oh so poetical

like the swim of sounds

all around

in the quiet holding

of silence perforated

by the most exquisite

traces of life cascading

from all braces and

otherwise non-races

of life arriving when

and how it does

gastric upheavals

sparkling weevils

squirm-ish peevals

trickling of sweet quieted voices

fountaining up like dampened water

and the metal keys

the piano of the wind plays

the heat flushes my face

what grace that pink

rose without any thorns

I wore my rose shirt

today just for you

and you and you

even the green of the

green envy and missing

leaves ~ all of us

in it together

this room

punctuated by soft time

no time only some odd

agreement we’d forgotten

about from another time

one without brave silences

held like holding your breath underwater

the eyes have it, but so do the ears

and so does the nose

nosing under

visiting the journey

that traveling could

never reach