Follow

Being Jeanne

 

Wind teases wind chimes,

Tousled hair, and juniper trees,

Here am I, licking raspberry sorbet,

Off a reflective silver spoon,

 

A simple speck under azure noon.

Light plays the hammock strings,

White rope woven with shadow.

A butterfly passes by garden patch.

 

In this quiet swinging space,

What things are worth thinking?

Leave a Reply

Close Menu