My pen is an elephant with hooves
that leave the prints of words
In the soft bamboo piles of Thailand.
I watch as the leaves change, autumn to spring
and smell the return of dusk.
My feet sink deep into the clouds of tomorrow
but today I'll hear the sun drown my face.
I can taste the music of crashing waves.
Janie Jenkins lies along the Hudson River
crossing her arms in disbelief;
"The autumn leaves don't change,
they simply fall."
The skin on my hand covers my fingers,
engraved in it wrinkles different than any.
This, I am chill, but no, not in the snow
becuase my hair is braided.
And no, "O, that this too too solid flesh would melt,"
I am already water.
Flowing down stream as the salmon swim against it.
The abstract lilies of time
float backwards to find the past.
I thought I understood it
Racing time as the seconds slow down
And all the world travels on pebble stones.
But I couldn't find it.
I couldn't find it
Only the eagerness of it.
The shadow of question
As I question the shadows.
As I question the shadows
The water color spills over my canvas
Creating a painting
Of something worth loving
Something worth loving
When the only truth is, I miss you.
Write me a letter
And send it some place beautiful.