Where Are The Rustling Leaves

Art told me that he talked to Randy (my ex, Humbee), last night. Told me on the drive to the beach. Now, hours later and not being able to fall asleep, I sit to write this poem and see what I cannot let go of.

(1:45pm)
If baby's breath can be planted
Then adult ailments can grow
And vines that tangle
The built up walls
Bridge Earth and Sun...eternal

Our engines forging forward;
A fog to light the way
So when he turns the bed down
A wind finds ways of winning

Clear Garden's colorful shine
Received the water from My stream
Their beautiful aroma is heartache
Save Spirit and Body to hold