Fly be free mean green mother
Shrouded in a myth
you are life
yesterday was lonesome
wait
today
works a sacred day
we blaspheme green everyday
you know where your heart is
mother
green
he doesn't like the color green
perhaps he is more mean than you
Green Mother
Mother Green
unstripped
listless
an amalgam of memory, regret and forgetfulness
there is nothing
here is everything
this seams less than you
Green mother
Mother green
The impossible posits the possible
and then there is me and you
we know each other
A casual glance
a remorseless tangle
what weeds we bramble
a bramble of green
this day almost gone
here we are
everything
Frank Sauce
- By Jeffrey Bershaw
- from Portland, OR
- I'll try to write as little as possible. I'm a little man with high hopes, pipe dreams and little machines inside that keep me writing.
- More About Frank Sauce
- Painting by Anna Todaro
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