~
Riding the currents
sleeping through storms
treading water in the dark
~
sparks of harmonics
fly from my pen
~
my hand
the sentient animal
of my heart
~
~
An older poem …. words float and land. improvisational rhythms. their own kind of precision. different relationship each time. they’re just there….perhaps have always been
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Artist: Turner
Advertisements Like this:Like Loading...