fallen hair



a soft wind that tickles the leaves is the

most beautiful thing I have ever seen

its those moments I wait for

when urging to move I sit

and urging to talk I wait

an urging to do nothing at all

an urging that the moment splits open

and chrystaline the world shows itself


can you be patient and wait too?

Can we sit in the hot sticky silence

How long will the weeping willow

With nooses around its heart

Sit there