barefoot and be-longing


she talks to frogs
and speaks the braille
of trees,

fills her hands with the
wispy ghosts of clouds
and sings

out loud in cobalt blue
and pine-pressed green.
these things,

they save her. they steep
her deep in ocean salt
and moon

-spilled tide and starstung
sky. she’s swallowing the how;
she knows

………………..the why.



in april, she poems. and communes with frogs. 

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4 Responses to barefoot and be-longing

  1. hank77 says:


    she’s swallowing the how;
    she knows the why.

    She seems to be at peace with the frog. She is just waiting to set it free perhaps


  2. lifelessons says:

    Lovely poem. Amazing photo. One of your best, imho…

  3. Phil Canon says:

    ‘the Braille of trees’ excellent!

  4. qbit says:

    “speaks the braille
    of trees”!!!

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