in the year two thousand thirteen of our Lord
I posted over a thousand words and I wonder
what words - ever struck a chord - it is easy
enough with music - the tones that strikes, the
melody stuck in the mind - but poetry seems
even more elusive in thought - i recall neruda
and his sea, the deep memory of the words
but not the words themselves - perhaps it is
the language of soul - it is not the words that
strike but the image it conveys - carries forth
my beloved carry forth, my new brother he has
stopped reading, and the love that holds me is
lost - i wonder if it is any better where you are
and if the blue of your couch matches the words of neruda
