Friday, January 26, 2007

POEM - Egg

Slick and cold as chocolate milk,
Consider this: Life as unopened gift,
Brown and wanting as summer grass.
Oh rounded grain of potent dirt!
Oh bare armed silence of the earth
As private as an infant’s thoughts!
Within – everything so sweetly compact
Like the unused ordinance of my love –
Imperfect, still: but ever intact.


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