Sometimes we walk in a painted drama
Or a recited poetry
Not hurried or loud
Like a leaf falling on a stream
There are things we don’t understand like shuffling papers
Or how we fold an umbrella after the rain
And we smile
We continue our walk doing crossword puzzles inside our heads
That’s how we miss dogs sleeping under the tree
One of us steps on his tail.
Where can light hide if it wants to hide?
Changing our names is like moving away, hiding or flirting.
Our eyes catch the light
Showering over a leaf
Like a prayer
Light has no tail or face
But a field, of attractions
A woman rises at dawn
An undulating line with three points
above and before the line’s endpoint.
Abstract inside reality
Reality arising from the abstract
Crisscrossing lines and several daubs of blue and red
Circles ascending and descending.
She rises at dawn
Pick some apples from under the tree
Art is simplicity, simplicity is art
Like kindness.
edgarone2
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