A small post today, and a small poem on concrete.
ON CONCRETE
Red stains on my new pants
Still warm, bright, and growing
As the sun goes over the horizon
Far too fast this early in the day
I look east, then down, then up
As I lose my footing
And sleep deep in a pile of leaves
A smile before unconsciousness
by the way, everything on this page is copyrighted by me 2005 (except for the Rilke translation) so don't steal it.
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If Jacob is renamed Israel for Struggles with God, perhaps I should only be whispered for struggles with words.
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