Monday: Alphabet Soup.
Tuesday: Alphabet Soup.
Wednesday: Punctuation Soup.
The sun cinches the edge of winter trees.
Why this talk of seeing
into your own nature?
Huang Po says to me,
and only to me.
The humming is outside
and inside myself.
I am buzzing streetlights.
Striped bulbs spinning rapidly underground.
I keep talking and talking
so there is something
while the leader is
forbidding one more thing,
his pen dipped in baby blood.
Copyright 2017 Leonard Gontarek
I love this poem by Leonard Gintarek about what is seen/unseen, heard/unheard.–Aldona
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