Tuesday, November 22, 2011

we can be


the sky is full today - like a room filled with smoke -
there's no definition to it
no edges

here on the ground there's constant movement
as leaves in shades of ochre and pale yellow
move on the breath of a capricious wind
that holds no single point of contact
no attachment to anything
it simply is movement
undefined




9 comments:

The Weaver of Grass said...

Oh for a day like that Steven - we sit here in thick freezing fog.

Pauline said...

just look at the shape of your poem - it's a cup overflowing - perfect!

erin said...

(i'm still dizzy, tumbling room to room:)

xo
erin

steven said...

weaver as i write it's freezing rain. my bike ride might be slippy or non-existent!!! i'll grab the memory of this moment and hold it. steven

steven said...

thanks for seeing that pauline . . . i wasn't really thinking about it but there it is. steven

steven said...

erin - hold your eyes on the ceiling, then the floor. it's you that's turning. steven

Butternut Squash said...

What a perfect little whirlwind. Life on the ground is always a little unsteady like that. One needs to be anchored to the mountains, the ocean and the sky in order not to get completely blown away. You seem well anchored.

steven said...

hello butternut!!! connecting to the whole through the part is something i'm still working on and perhaps more truthfully - something i expect to always be working on!!! steven

Valerianna said...

The kind of sky I MUST paint...