Thursday, June 5, 2014

Under the Skirts of Palms

Under skirts of palms
my ears are full of the river
and the sound the ground breeze makes
combing the tall grasses

Looking under her skirt I see dancing
everything vibrates to her hark
the river the river a song
her skirt in sing a long
especially the rock
rising falling    calling rhyme
I hear it now distribute time

Gasping with bubbles
it percolates and rustles
as a woodpecker drums approval
leaded eyes cast into the depth of me
as I plead insanity

Under the cracked dirt
a river runs with weaving moss
the hungry mouths of babies
chase and gather found the squirm
I can hear them glee
that they have found a really worm

Singing lips so be it kind
I apologize
to the mother’s silver side
and the yellow blood of worms

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