The sun's painting the sky
A pink shadow, certain clouds,
I find that dazzlingly puzzling --
Again the sense of math, geometry --
Is it the angle of the sun "coming up"?
But some mornings
That pink is not there...
That's what's uplifting,
The uncertainty of it...
The tree stretches
It's leaning to the left.
The cat wandering in the street,
Nice that he feels that comfortable
Ah, now I see a white building,
The pillars on the porch,
They are white.
There is shrubbery.
I like the path DOWN
Walking with me.
There are tree limbs sticking out from the ground,
The incline -- plants that were determine to live
Regardless of the circumstances of WHERE they choose to exist.
Walking along this path
Rings around the mountain,
Ring around the rosy...
We're in the market square
The children are bouncing a ball
Their pantaloons well up in the wind;
And I see the black and white "costumes" of these nuns.
(This is all glancing out of the corner of my eye…)
We are going to the fair today,
To buy supplies,
Or just browse among the vendors