Friday, December 9, 2011

rock for creeley or she

it's happening
in freedom:

the opportunity
to embrace
the real yoga

the mornings,
she will remember.

i too
can throw a rock
at a wall and

it will hit a lake
and the lake will
re-member me.

like when we
re-membered each other
and love
in August

by night,
under the valley sky

by day,
shirtless in the creek

first day

is the first day
and we shall create stolen windmills
out of cracks in the pavement


I found two broken slats
on the old bench swing
before he died