How Many
words
flow
through this stone stream
of paper boats
such magical creatures
of dream
they will never
go from your mind
filling with trees
they are flowers
soft brown sparrows
white buildings
like slate standing
cold and fresh
in the air
they are the songs
the mirrors sing
the O gold of the sun
the skywater blue babies
that will not let
the paper boats drown.
- Dominic Alapat
rekha said,
August 20, 2011 at 8:42 am
Excellent, Dominic!