Before, but not before
Love and kindness
The thin blue line
That is crossed
Then crossed again
One plus one
Makes
What one chooses
Beware
The longer stare
It is the loser
Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Before, but not before
Love and kindness
The thin blue line
That is crossed
Then crossed again
One plus one
Makes
What one chooses
Beware
The longer stare
It is the loser
First light, blue sky
All that walking
In the sun
Nattered
By pointless diversions
Critical
In the hot air
Not thoughtless
Although thoughts
Can be hard to handle
Particulates
Cells
Your A++
Dotted
About thin hair
Moving ever so
Slowly down
Into a gathering
Sufficient for recognition
Slivers of silver white
The mix
Approaching contagious
Faint outlines
Fainter horizons
Flickering stillness
Absent slowness
Of a weekend morning
Brighter skies
Clearer lies
Over the ridge of trees
In the foreground
Five Silver Birch
Half of love
Half of brothers
Half of maybe
And their mothers
One of north
One of south
One of always
Hand to mouth
Two of truth
Two of lies
Two of noise
And lonesome cries
Three of birth
Three of rites
Three of time
To fly their kites