poetry. thoughts and more than make-believe.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

This morning...

Walking along
broken down
cornfield patches
along the riverboat fog
sang
whispering
through empty treetops
and I thought
how I want to remember
this moment-noticing
this old persons painting
in my brain and how
distance creates better
snapshots
than maybe the
soaked cattails
visiting the bikepath.
Naked images
of
mudholes and old pepsi
cans someone couldn't
carry 10 feet to throw away--
but that foggy treeline
river morning
looked quietly amazing.

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