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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 ...

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

A poem composed just shy of the Yin Extremity as I walked along Fourth Neck

 After only two sips
From the soda can (which I then
left standing on the porch railing)
I proceeded east along
The easternmost stretch
Of Fourth Neck

Just as the yardmen
Were heading home
In their pick up truck
Leaving behind an enormous
Pile of leaves in front of
Aunt CeeCee’s house

With the Yin power
Only a night or two
From its utmost extremity
I headed down towards
The creek in the moon’s
Buttery glow
Past my neighbor Scott
Conversing on his cell phone

In a light warm enough
To draw rabbits out to dance
In their thickened coats
From one dead end sign
To another I traversed further east
Until my mind’s eye ran out
Beyond the point of no return

Where the moon
Had doubled itself
From top to bottom
In the calmed waters
Of the creek

I paddled on in that moonlight
Almost bright enough
To obscure the Pleiades rising
Which kept beckoning me on
Just a few fingers  
Above the horizon

*  *  *  *  *

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