(Umbra.)
Fall asleep to dreams
In alabaster chalk dust
My masterpieces.
(Penumbra.)
Tree roots, gnarled, bent
A voice pushing through floorboards
A counterpoising.
(Antumbra.)
Legs crossed, curved angles
Purple, yellow, blue shadows
A movement pose.
LL, 4/20/09. Prevail.
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We shall not foresake the haiku when April, month of poetry, is over. No they shall be to us as salt--every day and still extraordinary.
ReplyDeleteHow in the world do you slow the world to such vivid stillness?! Hats off.
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