In the back’s low hollow sometimes
a weightless hand guides me, gentle pressure
so I tack soft as a sailboat. (Go there)
Soften the space between your eyes (smudge
of eucalyptus), the third eye
opens. There’s the wide vermilion sky
by Mary Karr
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Meditatio
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1 comment:
Um, I'm confused.
Give me poems I can understand, like
Little doggy on the street.
Fast car, minced meat
author unknown.
Rossy (who hopelessly failed general english)
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