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Glyphs

Glyphs

A late spring rain—
merely a sprinkling
washing the pollen from the pines,
but inscribing every surface
with a curious yellow script:
the long stanzas
of the one true poem.

24 April

April 26th 2009  |  Comments feed  |  Tags:  | 

One comment

  1. Evan writes:

    So delighted you made this blog.
    I’ve read all your published work so I really look forward to further translations of “the one true poem.”

    I’ve used poetry to mold and contour my trips as well.
    Have a gander at some here:
    http://teleomorph.com/word-garden/

    April 28th, 2009 at 7:56 pm

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