top of page

Poetry Commons

Public·28 members

Spring Is

1.

Spring is here.

Now my eyes turn to incense.

Children are in my bones.

The dog of the world has no home

but vacant skulls and vacant skulls,

but where I step is a threshold.

Music clothes me.

Lift your windows, fathers.

None but the sky can hold me.


2.

White petals scattered on the skirt of

       an orange peel sun...

Today, bow down to the Fool

       who stands in his oval of gold.

Bend down and take some of his crazy

       pomade for yourself, and dance.


Skip on the native rim of this world

       and don’t mind the sting of the dollars

men fling.  Let the Fool’s flute

       play beyond that.  When it’s night,

we’ll go padding through chambers

       of lightning, and dance.

27 Views

About

Welcome to our Poetic Medicine Community forum! We invite yo...

bottom of page