At the end is the door.
It feels like eternity.
Last item is removed,
the knot looks newer.
Nothing indicates.
You hesitate- this
replays many times in your dream.
The moon is full, trees are thin.
A door leads to another,
the long hall yawns deep…
A deer steps in,
you wake up at the green.
You search for its italic code,
behind the curtain
an enormous foot looms.
Aug 31 Poetry Alive program updates
We had a wonderful time together and a dynamic discussion. Thank you for coming! Thank the Mississauga News and SNAP Newspaper and Mississauga Library.
Thanks Mark Harry’s invitation, we had Poetry and Music at Second Cup and enjoyed the evening.
Window Fishing: The night we caught Beatlemania
Here is Beatles’ A Glass Onion