Sometimes in weeping Willows
One can hear
The ugly Secret whispered
In fields of rice paddies and almond trees
It should be no less audible
Than when Creon told Oedipus
“Do not try to be master…”
When Oedipus cried for his children
Understand the rays of Light
That pass through a cloudless October Sky
On a day when the sands bathe naked
Four feet beneath the Pacific surface
Observers see so clearly
Understanding the darting path of the Sculpin
Just another day at play
Meanwhile
The Gull preys in the heavens…
Gang aft agley
When you want it your way
Something that happened
In the Weeping Willows
No comments:
Post a Comment