Sunday, October 4, 2009


Our feet search the ground
Cautiously, like new lovers
And we find our way through a canopy
Of red and white pine.
A coral reef of green is swaying like a storyteller
Drunk in the ocean of his breath.

The sun creeps away with a lazy brushstroke;
An intoxicated violet upon
The canvas of a dying madman
Is stretched across the sky.
We wander almost aimlessly underneath
Trying to get lost.

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