Robert Tremmel – “Water’s Edge Koan”

 

The shell
of an overturned boat
at the edge
of the water

the stones
that hold the wind
in place fill
the empty spaces
between my bones.

green twist of bindweed
with my skin
on the stalk

my fingerprints
on the leaves.

How long will it take you
to fly down
and reach the bottom
of each blaring
and glorious
white blossom?

 

 


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