Monday, April 25, 2011

In the antique mall or painted on a water tower

This is for finding.

It's for hiding and seeking.

This may show up in the meadow

under a cow, or hanging from fishing

twine dangled down the Merced tower.

If I could reach, I might rest these lines

on one of the soft spring clouds

or hang the words from an almond

tree, bursting with bloom. This

isn't a secret, it's a game--of the fun

variety. I'm putting poems in places

all over town. I write.

The search is on.

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