River of paper flows beneath my every word,
where would my thoughts be but for this substrate?
I do not bury my ideas, they float effortlessly atop
a flotsam of fibre. Precious sheet, plain field of snow
awaiting the track of winter hare, light touch
of white tail doe. River of paper transports those
who set eye upon it, reveals unspeakable cruelty,
multiple quotidians, astonishment, rapture;
river carries it all. Paper absorbs each moment,
another ripple, whirlpool, watermark; the source
of this plane holds all thought before thought
occurs. Once marked, it will remain,
but never the same again.
Visit from the mother
Mother hummingbird,
pray perch on subtle twig of lilac,
wise to trust, or so I tell myself,
pirouette so I may admire electric green
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