Monday, March 28, 2011
got2dogs
The endings
are in the beginnings
one way or another
Flower turns itself to seed
the children move beyond us
into space we cannot even imagine
Carrying loads we know nothing of
We turn, then, to each other,
let them go,
and drink our tea
In the rosy twinight,
A grin, still,
at what they cannot guess of us
jjl
8/6/2007
at
9:53 PM