1/16/2006

In the Park

A walk in the park;
we notice a boy
with a stick and a dog.
They seem exclusively

happy and we wonder-
where is his mother?

He has no mother.
He has a stick
and a dog, autumn
wind at his back,

sun of his eyes

and waves
of tree,
like the sea

surround him.

Even we
belong to him
now, and we
have nothing...

but this.

2 comments:

Juniper_Tree said...

This is really beautiful.

Chris said...

your poetry is mystical, beautiful, and deeply tied to nature. It pulls at my heart.
art only becomes beautiful when it is realized...
know this...it is beautiful