Down come the marigolds
upon my bare head.
Perhaps it is time to sleep.
An inquisitive ladybug creeps
over my left thumb, itching
for a late lunch.
We are both famished.
My shell has cracked wide
open yet I remain inside,
awaiting the revelation.
And so the afternoon continues.
cruisin’ with a 6
The heart of San Francisco Saturday Night/Inner Sunset
(2010)
make like the morning
make like the morning
and fly to the west,
till your fine wide wings
detect their own nest
회색의 색조/Shades of Grey
Three Monks at Donghwasa Temple/동화사
Union Jack
Stuck in the Middle
Cinquain/XLVIII
minute
by minute we
resolve not to commit
to change which would let us truly
be free
Four Wise Men
An interior shot at Tongdosa Temple/통도사 – South Korea
Wash Day
That blanket that spins in the drum
bears secrets that only my lips
are longing for. As the washer hums
and grunts, the lavender strips
of cloth underneath my fingers sigh
when the brush strikes them with fury.
He chose to sidestep these empty eyes.
Now I stand, blanketed in worry.
———–
edited after initial posting
Left Behind
Flowing through the
thickest water to get
back home.
stone by stone
head by head
The conductor says
that
I’ve been left behind.
At least I saw her smile.
Do you know what the
slap of stale breath
against cotton at 4:18
in the morning sounds
like?
12 hours of parceled sighs
packed and planned in
a head
so full of nothing that
it would make you scream
to the sky for the offense
of it all.
Sleep was never the answer.
sundry folly 