...the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life...

Thursday, February 25, 2010

S.P. Poem #36: End

Odd February: extra days, rains

Blast white onto mountains,

And air: clear enough to see.

The world’s warming.

Those who say no have known

Since they were born

The serpent words, the hand

And mouth action.

An oak is dark

On iridescent grass, target

For the yellow path to shade.

No spores yet bloom

In you. You’re free.

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