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.