Monday, March 03, 2003

206

STILL LIFE WITH TRUMPET VINE FLOWERS AND BAMBOO PLACEMAT

Huddled on the edge of the bowl like kittens
The surface of the emotion is mottled

A fly runs along the surface like a sandpiper
Look at us still running from sleep to sleep

Luckily children also are both born and made
And do not arrive in epigram-armor