he is not
a country

no one is

no matter
what they

tell you

we are
people

real people
mixing with

real people
with real

needs and
desires

that is a
country

we can
disagree

with each
other and

still live
together

as a country

no matter
what they

tell you

I fall deeper as I
watch her yawn in the sun.

There better be a fountain
made in her likeness
at the center of all this.

The petal of a flower
Blew up and kissed me on the cheek.
Then on the ground it lay, wilting in the sunshine
While I am renewed , as I smile
The movement of my cheek muscles releases sparkling dust
Which falls upon the silky leaflet
absorbing it
The wind then picks the dust and takes it.
The petal’s last kiss is Is now upon the wings of butterflies no longer wilting.