wind
leaves
they dance
with each other
...
pretty woman
wrinkled woman show girls picture
of her uncreased days
...
count yourself blessed
if you are reading this?
you are the rare few
who actually read others' poetry
...
morning glories
in slight breeze
young girls in
their shy years
...
from the waves
she comes to your dream
a cauldron of longings
seeking your reassuring touch
...
bulldog faced
bulldozed, face
flattened, dried
and creased
...
the best poets
might never
have lived at all
...
honour is feeling you are special
because you have made others
feel good about being themselves
...
the physical body
gets bored of itself
eventually gives up itself
though this soul is very much
...
the blazing sun's lost in its own shine
the clouds encode each of the rays,
cotton waves of scarlet, red, orange
the last signature of the sun before
...