Monday, February 18, 2013


proserpina makes a quick entrance then retreats

says see ya later in a few weeks

in the meantime we work in the garden

till fingers bleed and the back gives

i read the poems of stonehouse translated by red pine

my own hermitage is situated between wake and dream

tho consciousness doesn't care does it

it might all be the same

every spring cancels winter out

only to be made winter again


Post a Comment

<< Home