for my mind to
write something for you
is for the flowers
to feed nectar to birds,
and your presence and
ears are the vessels
so my seeds are
sown in the ground.
Hello, you, who
reads poems like
a musician clefs.
Basses, so bold and italic.
Half-notes, half-thoughts,
succinct and seemingly
purposeful.
Poetry, is the shelf
on which my thoughts
gather.
Vessels with which
I slice across my head,
and sprinkle stars
here and there.
Mother, father, you, I.
People whom I have
not yet met but have
greeted with my words.
Hello,
here are some words for you.
A poem, to a good day.
