I’ve lost my way.
Cornered too fast
On intentions
My brain beats in echoes
Of false prophecy.
And casts a shadowy
Prediction of a future
Encompassing nothing.
I let go of the gray
In defiance of color.
Take my billowy
Foliage and make
Sense of this garden.
If you can spare a moment
Show me how it’s done.

06/19/2005

Posted on 06/20/2005
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