trees without leavestrees which are all but twigs
reaching for the summer
sun
like Egyptians
in worship
a monochrome of
black veins
and capillaries against
the gray background of
dying light
off-white on such
a bleak day.
These are poetic experiments. Man's quest for the poetic element never ceases. He is always caught in the eye of awe. He does not make the rules now. The rules change depending on the emotion that time and space feed him. He must see everything with his wide eyes gaping. The beginning of poetry too, like philosophy is wonder. Look and see. Do not stop wondering You are the poet. And everything is poetry. Wonder. Wander.
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