his shadow became Man.
In the garden, the shadow
that knows itself a shadow
looks for the footsteps,
thinking only poems.
Similar Posts
me, the bow,
me, mc squared;does it follow,sexual activityrelates to relativity?my energy,your mass;can we equatesuch love,my lass?
Twin squirrels leapfrog
Do frogs play squirrel?
I may be
but I knownot tocarpover someone else’sparc
Dear Li Po
for Poemhunterabout drinking – and alone at that – without mentioningthat it’s Saint Patrick’s Daywhen drinkers seldom drink alonefor the craic’s the thingso next time you have to drink aloneexcept for your shadow,notice that your shadowunder the light of the Moon,dances more drunkenly, and sooner– happy shadow –than you. You haven’t noticed?Then perhaps you’re thinkerthan…
Please
to Chris Higginson’s‘Zimbabwe’ pleafor yourpoetic sympathy.The prizeis in the international currencyof the heart
I kissed her therein, wheresoever;
we conjointly set down notwithstanding,ensconced thereupon heretofore.