MAYBE

LET THE POEM COME TO YOU

FLOATING ITS WAY FREELY

THROUGH THE BIG FAKE WORLD

WILD SWEET HOLY

WHEN IT ARRIVES AS AN ACHE

EMBRACE THE HOLE IN YOU

LIKE A HAWK IN THE AIR

SENSING THAT IT CAN’T BE CAUGHT

FEED THE POEM WHERE SPRING BLOSSOMS A CHERRY TREE

MAKE IT A FAT SKUNK CONTEMPLATING LIFE

LET IT BEND IN THE BREEZE

LET IT LEAVE AS IT CAME

MAYBE IT WILL OPEN ITS WINGS TO THE SUN

MAYBE IT WILL DISAPPEAR IN THE FOG