Stems

I love paper. I don't have to
water it. Just watch 
warm cursive form 
as if green stems 
that might sprout pale 
or flush flowers. 
Without care. I tell myself 
I love to look at 
what is made. Feel that
in my hand. My eyes safe-
keeping the thought of ink
veering across the page.
In smooth stages to view 


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Beach Light

Ars Poetica 2