{..}
trees and daffodils,
covered
poet’s heaven, not,
poet’s hell, yes.
will i earn myself a peek
if i describe it?
not
how about
if/when revisiting hell
the knowing of heaven
makes all
survivable
not knowing
poet’s hell
i like to believe it is the meeting
of very old poet friends
and then what says she
you’ll never see clearly
the other side
but you can get close
and you can come back
more aware
who knows what i’m reaching for
i see a big full moon in the sky
a reflection of my globe
lamp that looks more like a pumpkin
de Buddha asks me for whom do i write
tonight
for myself
and i’ll print
for my Finder tomorrow
we’ll have a good laugh
and brotherhood
from sea to shining s.