Clay Names




write our names in the clay
that dries in the sun/letters dream
of faces/stories/pages of signs
bodies enter the river to fly
(moments slip by...without a sound)
your hand is a leaf of light
unfolding each new day
reaching to shores further down stream ...





Poetry by Charles Lezine
Read 677 times
Written on 2012-05-31 at 02:36

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countryfog
I've spent countless hours and words with rivers and streams and ponds . . . none so simply and perfectly wrought as this. "your hand is a leaf f light" and so is your poem.
2012-05-31