Friday, August 12, 2011

poem ~ James McLaughlin


The mind confers

if the red tipped

green eyed Anthurium



sewn in folds

gathered into a sort of white abyss



gives almost a flavour - a reaction

as remit inclination



a nuance forgiven

on each stalk



contained flickering on

a single crystal rain

drop



just ready to die



or bounce

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