Sunday, April 1, 2012

April 1st Poem--NaPoWriMo

Everything in its place

                                 the weeds
arranged by wind and bowels,

the starlings’ choreographed switchbacks
above the highway, jasmine

drying in the kitchen window. And beneath our feet
the decay of ancient eras. What was born

from them lives in us, in the jasmine and starlings,
in the wind and the bowels. Weeds.  All of us. 

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