Jan 2016
You sat on your
perfect tree limb...
near white out snow
falling.
You leaned
windward, alighting
your form.
One hand clapping...
you unified sight
and sound, then there
was Zen.
perfect tree limb...
near white out snow
falling.
You leaned
windward, alighting
your form.
One hand clapping...
you unified sight
and sound, then there
was Zen.
(NYC)
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