on still butterflies
orange cups
of golf course
willow willow
doves whose coos
puff clouds
over jaded
giant kapok
I wonder if the
same kind of
chunked concrete
a cathedral
I loved so much
it steams mornings
like a stretched
limousine on eggs
my one room in
yourself where
when it’s quiet
you can hear me
breathe
first published in Poems for Peace, Structum Press (Tom Hibbard, editor)
