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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 ...

Thursday, December 10, 2015

Poem Written After Sunset Looking East While Standing on the Bank of Weesuck Creek

Perched for
Another beatitude
Or two on the edge
Of the guard rail
At the ass end of our street
Reality takes on
Its ink stained aspect
The dim ripples demonstrate
Time stretching out
Towards the horizon
A heron settles on its nest
A dog barks nearby
Ready for supper and 
While the mind expatiates
There's darkness
For all the rest

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