05/16/2021 Environment (Poem)

Environment

Floating arms, passing clouds

a few stray words

a painting of the desert

a world different from ours

dim and uncertain

and then an enormous, impenetrable

forest, somewhere

a howling Indian witch-doctor.

Floating arms, passing clouds

the stream of things their own way

a transparency before you know

you breathe before you have time

to sing

of your passing