
I need no gift
he says
while peeling carrots.
It is true
for what gift is needed at all?
Still,
tonight he reads
Pirsig’s Zen
again.
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In these days
harsh with vengeance
fired by greed
cowering fear
solitary observance
returns to centre
empathy
love and peace.
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Loose sweaters
book clingers
rainwalking shoes
star watchers
cloud wishers
temporary blue
day dreamers
midnight seekers
ride
within you.
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Side by side
breath by breath
heart rhythm
eastern winds.
Between jack pines
we sway with
homage
flutter,
passage of time.
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Morningbird
raindance reels
light stepping rhythm
landing’s challenge between
adornment
from death
emergent life.
Beauty.
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Inside stand
stand in wood
if might may wield
they could they would
why not we should
transform
a tree
neat pile
of wood.
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Each one,
ending with
Kafka’s fade,
lingers days
whispering deepening
peeling half-speed
to the raw
distracted
gaze.
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Just past
Cove and 697
you took your exit
still half-sleeping.
I guess your journey
called for only
half a mattress.
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Dusk
that lonely place
between darkness
light’s obscure
distant shroud
present like knowledge
breath just passed
step. waltz. decay.
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Photograph
a stranger framed
beaches feature waves
naked wild-eyed fire dogs
freedom dancers
driftwood logs
distant future still
slumbering.
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Pencil on paper. Images arise. Message received.