Thursday, November 8, 2012

As I write these verses I think of you

As I write these verses I think of you
singing within a dream, your ears hearing
the breeze in the tops of trees. As I write I
realize you all around me, realize a curving

horizon to the East, an orange rising Sun
in a blanket of purple cloud. Your breath moves
the Moon and stars, I'm hearing flowers sing
the modes of dew. I think of you but not

of you. I think not, pointless like the trees
and pastures, diffuse as the morning fog
that pronounces the water. Yet, to think

of you is to make real the imagined object
of wordless infinites. Just to perceive
your form in rhythmic lines is a blessing.

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