lincoln park haiku
breeze blows in languid summer
lying in sunlight
leaves fall from Madrona tree
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always careening
invited in but always careening towards something (careless footsteps) skin throbbing from the sting (and not wanting to forget) the pulsating rhythm of blood rushing to the point of entry bathed in sunlight, the clenching stops while quiescent clouds gather rich, mellifluous enchantment moments and memories stitched together (everything in his house has a story)…
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shard (tikkun olam)
I was walking in an alley in Chicago today and found…
