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Where The Listening Grass Breathes July 10, 2007

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry, Uncategorized.
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there is new dew on this morning ground

very early, lit by a waning moon

very early,  when the listening grass breathes,

when the listening grass breathes

it’s so quiet that when the wind chime up the street

moves it doesn’t tink-tinkle rather clack-clackers

in that flat unpretty way,

flat and unpretty like the salamander on the lawn,

maybe he’s contemplating, maybe resting, maybe

he was somewhere and he was told “you don’t have to go

home, but you can’t stay here” or, maybe,

just maybe he wanted to take a stroll on a fine morning,

very early, lit by the waning moon

very early,  when the listening grass breathes

when the listening grass breathes

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Comments»

1. Jim Swindle - July 21, 2007

I just discovered your poems. Thanks for sharing them. Where I live, I don’t see salamanders, but there was a long black slug on the driveway this morning, heading somewhere, heading nowhere, oozing along. Maybe it was looking for your salamander.

I must say, this is the first poem I ever saw where someone tried to think like a salamander. Good job.


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