Sitting naked beside the road, stripped of all I'd once owned. I see a flower stare at me, and recall being stoned. The painful thumps upon my flesh, the cracks internal heard, the racing breath, the anxious feel as my sight slowly blurred. What crime is madness, I wonder? What is it to be free? A slap to faces of all those tied to the old birch tree?
tree sits on boulder, its roots curled over rocks; child sits on the roots
just a shard of a once colossal cathedral stands amid rubble
In the forest there was a stately, old owl who intended to go out on the prowl, but before he vamoosed his cozy tree roost he fell asleep, throwing in the towel.
the tailed jay is the only shade of green that's not camouflage
A reveler visiting Indonesia blacked out with a bout of amnesia. Feeling rather jolly, he passed out in Bali, and woke up on a beach in Polynesia.
A young traveler to old Kathmandu decided to get himself a tattoo of a phrase in Sanskrit that he thought was legit, but it read, "Don't lick the wild ape canoe!"
morning frost melts with early rays of sunlight. primrose buds slacken.
a full four seasons, from snow to sweaty t-shirt: one mountain pass
