In my dreams I swim
in crowded pools. I am made
of some clay-like substance,
infinitely malleable and invisible;
transparent as this light, falling
on the paving stones. A scarred
and scrawny squirrel scolds me
from the lilac tree. Why? What
have I done, or left undone,
that has offended you?
The feeder is full, water pours
from the fountain. Solomons
Seal curves gently in the shade.
My life is an empty gourd.
What more must I do?
--
~ SB =^..^=
http://www.sbpoet.com
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