"Tell Me a Story, Weathered Soul"
among the bamboo
simply sitting, while crows caw
simply cawing
the curve of the hills…
the way the clouds love to
touch down upon them
walking Hendries Beach
low tide shows the jagged rocks
we so soon forget
meditator's tangerine:
emptiness as form,
color scent taste bliss
the yellow pistil
erect in the lily’s cup—
absolute androgyny
across this calm sky
if only he wouldn’t paint
his mud–ugly name
—Barry Spacks
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