Saturday, September 10, 2011

Bike Path (Out)

In vain is the art of rain
I'm too far away children.
Children: help yourself. Until
I come for you, elastic-ed back. 

It's only nine miles to Spring-
field on a bike. Can feel longer 
walking, walking, walking,
carrying with me my words.

From either side of summer
robin breast and leaf windfall
commune, conspire to beat
in ongoing song, my surprise

the downfall of buried life--
And awake, even wilderness
becomes shelter, so all alone--
every one inherently memories.



ashok said...

Nice blog, liked ur writings...keep it up.

maya said...

Thanks, Ashok!