At the Core
In the hot spring,
when the sap rises
to make blooms open
their golden thighs
for the dry juice of
pollen carried on the
tongues of birds and
bees, I sometimes go
out to our secret garden
and sit naked in this
white lawn chair
to drink my coffee so
I can hear life throb
deep in the red core
of the earth.
Copyright
Vol Lindsey
8/23/2008
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