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The Journey to the West

Though we journey to the West We pray to the East More or less that's the way Each day begins and ends It’s a tale everyone ...

Friday, December 25, 2009

The Day I Met Anna

Sometimes as with
A twisted climbing vine
All the poems in my life
Seem inextricably entwined
Inter-textually speaking
To one another and to
My more slippery self

Each new stanza
Sends its gentle
Tendrils in short
Swift shoots

Now today
In your midst
For the very first time
I find myself
By the expression of
An entirely new twist
On the state of things

Perceiving how
It takes a subtle
Yet epochal shift
In a wintry light
To make an old suit of clothes
Still more comfortably fitting