I drive the Karma down the Dharma
to see the April Maya...Halfway to the shifting sands of time
(a set that soon
be taken down
and folded in a truck)
to pluck the rock from the Rocin a field by Little Ponton, stop -
forgotten setting off
too long to go for destiny to register...White prunus blossom lines the lane;
this is what's real, the road movie.
Brendan smiles at thatas we unload.
..............American style free verse.
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YOU ARE READING
The Singing Season
PoetryThe Singing Season. That's the spring-time. You'll also like other MajorSeventh poetry collections - and there are so many to choose from.