More Poetry

no seasons exist inside the soul
our sap runs up & down
tapped & untapped
leaves fall &
unfold as
they
will
moment
to months
day to decade
the vegetal life
shifting & sifting
rising & collapsing
torn apart & fast
to a stone of
water flow
we turn
with &
into
it
holes
inside
outside
Moebian
Ouroburan
popping into
& out of existence
like so many quantum
black hole universes
& if you see her
running—her
Persephone
or Psyche
toward
a dark
hill
some
boy will
follow with
a ring & a ball
& a dog & balloon
a wool cap & sandals
& two goats herded by
a flock of fine wild geese

© 2010 Richard Lance Williams June 11 the seasons of moments

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