Long sunny days
starlit nights
calming sunrises
vibrant sunsets

cold, refreshing water
smooth in the morning
rough in the wind
reflecting the silver moon

Dense forest
Long empty trails
berry's of sweet taste
animals eating the shrubs

Dancing fires
laughs shared
in the moment
no worries

my dreams of summer
return once again

two Americans and three Indians
Came to my house.yesterday.
Four of them were men
And one of them a woman
They were all shedding blood
I asked the Americans , “ What
Happened to you?” Our fellow
White Americans fired at us”
Why? “I asked most innocently”
They said, ‘we fought indiscrimination
Against the blacks and for their equality”
I asked the Indians, Why are all bleeding?
“The religious fanatics belonging to our
Religion fired at us’ .The two Indian men said.
A Sikh fanatic shot at me indiscriminately”
He was my own body Guard too.”
The Indian woman said painfully.
Coincidentally all the five came
From the two great democracies
Democracy means” killing the
Great leaders and shedding their blood.”
I woke up from the dream
But I had the great opportunity
Of talking to five noble souls

Six inches shorter.
Old as the land.
Snow on top.
Ice in the joints.
Light blurred vision.
Spring turned to winter.
It's a wonder I made it this far.

when into deepest rushing
a nightingale would sing
temporary blundering
into softest frailing
day

And you firm and buttressed gorgeous scarlet
your health,like venus i timid and glut upon,
is also a god. harder than smooth and softer
than rough. a cool like steam and hot like
summers wings. a bird, charming and immense
she's nothing compared to you noble
to you
           t o           you
                                          there is nary a season more supple or lovely than the
undark shout of your plain and spectacular plume
      of resolute arms
                 on your shoulders
                                                   on your bones
                             your muscles
                     on them
                                      thy skin
                                                              who i dimple most commonly
          on saturnday mornings
                 when you peak beveled luscious havoc
in my brave and capricious bed
                                                           and you tousle my senses
        byTheFastStaggerOfYourMarvelous lips
      bounding pink
                                     and flush
                   madrigals in the infinite cavern of my
       very
                 and very
                                     smallest
h
  e
      a rt

this poised indelible knot)

(of untranslucent lodging rock

that mets so eagerly

                                    a

         n

              d

shorns the tousled bed of sky

a circlet of watching cobalt

supreme and rigidly manicured

wi

        th

the stormy lips of god

they(who;are,a,marvelous’girded.fauld:of gray)

speak

with whitish freezing voice

to say upon the noble cap

                                         this organized heap

                 of lean sinuous

stone

their icy tongue

which laps the bare skull

of the untremulous mountain

irrevocably spouting on the horizon