Homage to GARY SNYDER
words whittled to shavings
curling at my feet
thoughts like plastic wrappers
swirling in the wind
a puddle willing itself
to become an ice cube
the wave of a drowning man
in the waves
the sound of one hand clapping
in the forest
words shouted into the face
of the storm
unheard unread
your footprint preserved in stone
once a tentative step
in the ooze of time
much the way this began