... poetry ...

………….quagmire

strife and life and dandelions and starving kids

and elliptical orbits no longer

important enough to

bother ourselves

with.

…………but concentrate on this blank card

…………tell me what image appears in your conscious

…………focus…………. and clear your mind

save for the image you feel is printed on my

side of this large white card.  made from good stock.

focus.  tell me, sister, what do you see?

“I see a bird, trampled on by a slow moving parade

celebrating the release of Uncle Sam’s latest captive. “

………………there is a place for people like you

………………somewhere without keyholes.

What kind of bird is it sister?

“a swallow.  a little brown, meaningless swallow.”

……………….how trite.

……………….such drivel.

……………illuminate………………

and don’t be afraid of the bird, sister.

why don’t you pick it up and see if it will fly

“I cannot sir, the crowd is too large and

I cannot find my way though it.?

………………interesting.

would you say that this crowd is like a forest?

Perhaps you are seeing, as the blind man did,

men walking around like trees –

…………..before he had to be healed a second time.

“Methinks not, sir.  There are people here.

And I too, feel as if I will be trampled.”

………………….bravo, sister.

……….progress……………..

“Sir?”

……………ah, she speaks.

“What was printed on the other side your large white card?”

……………………….

……………………….

“Good sir, what’s there?”

……………………….

There is nothing there my dear.

both sides of this large white card are blank.

……………………i am writing this in your file

……………………i am questioning the look in your eyes.

see  the nay saying passerby.  He believes me unjust.

“Good sir, if your side is also blank,

then what was the point?  What does the bird tell me?”

…………………..

…………………..

…………………..

“Sir?…..”

…………………..time’s up.

……….good day…………..

…………………

…………………

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