you leaf wannabees
wait til after your birthday
no rush to turn red

• fog on the river
• some boat lights swim thru its tears
• others shine unseen

The mountain is there
dig a little, climb, climb, climg
but there is no top

fingers digging earth
feeling it's a big secret
one about to bloom

• looking for places
• to stop, fill in all my faults
• but the road goes on

fresh clothes, new hat, shave
tell the frogs to stop croaking
already a prince!

racing chariot the moon a farmer's wagon leaning on the sun

often we gathered
a small pool in the river
soft, soft, the current

a life of music
often rich, often off key
heels down, but dancing

reaching for daylight,
the moon feeds upon itself
like a mirrored self

hiding from my dreams
they're somewhere in the bushes
flowers are there too

Petunias nurtured
let me check the Begonias
they only act tough