the birth colors
of mesquite leaves
or baby’s skin
something with the
tint of innocence
in the scheme of emergence
translucent spirit
not a shade darker
Gary Hunter
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See Allwith a mere glance leaves tell you how they feel I’d like to learn the finer points of body language something more than just the “Hi” of...
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it rained late last night leaves cleaned green and dripping wet a dog shakes itself the pen’s side of life same struggle for survival...
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where I live thunderstorms usually arrive to a mountain’s detour where clouds are spun into a collar that wraps the throat of the valley...
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