flowering tears

neurotic tourists leafed temples

flowers waved goodbye

we grow without you

elephant cried

freedom

confidence

yes, said confidence speaking with, not to, independent.

you are my bright shining star.

a constellation.

stars sing sang sung with their light.

be light about it, said vocabulary, laughing.

we are star dust.

sun sailed west over a black and blue sea for 4,000 years, said independent.

welcome to earth. hello babies.

time sweeps history

Once upon a time and such a wonderful time it was I wore a BIG watch.

Living in the past is time consuming.

Small wrist. Bone, skin, vein.

All the weight. Shake time. Wake up!

This BIG watch was not huge never ending gigantic e normal mouse time. Rather small time. I thought time was big. Life is big. Time is short and small. Time is a mass of white seagulls pirouetting in a pitch black sky. White light fragments flutter by and by.

A woman's long face studies sorrow at her feet. 

Another read Turkish coffee grounds. You will experience a personal earthquake. I see a child. You travel many roads. A bird has a good message. 

I see a spirit place in the mountains, said another reader. Many people are praying. There is a holy man. It is a Buddhist place. There are many rivers and mountains. I see a man and woman. You will meet a cat. It is a woman. She is a potential enemy. Be careful.

Miracles Revealed! Faith, hope and alienation.

A Trabzon bus lot director in shiny black shoes, orange tie, and white hair with hands behind his back sings Italian opera. His voice is a long distance trans carrier between Georgia and Greece. 

Here we go, I stutter.

Language of what I don't know is big. Bigger than time. Longer than tomorrow, a faceless facet of time's ticking, sweeping a hand around a dial. Knowing and understanding tried to communicate without speaking. Zap. Down, done, did, do the do.

I know but cannot say. Others say but do not know. Babbling tongues.

After escaping Persians, 10,000 Greek warriors ran down mountains layered with leaves yelling, THE SEA! THE SEA!

The warrior wears a medal from Korean service. Once upon a time.

accept loss forever

He saw his first , or maybe second, it only takes a second, Cambodian woman with a prosthetic leg. The majority minus arms and legs or fingers and hands are men and kids. Kids love to play with buried things. Dirt play.

Today it was her turn. 

It was her gait. How she dragged the drab olive green right leg behind her.

It reminded her of a lost conversation where one whispers more than they know. More than they can reveal. Truth be said.

She was maybe 40. Give or take a moment.

It was a moment years ago when she stepped on the invisible mine. What you don't see is fascinating. Her story evolved into family taking care of her after they heard the explosion. After it rained dirt, rice, weeds, tears, light, broken clouds, false dreams, expectations, celebrations and musical thunder notes.

A doctor. Blood. Pain. Loss. Tears and memory comforted her. She absolved her faint quick belief in Buddha beyond all the mysteries.

After she went to Siem Reap she got her new artificial leg at Cambodian Handicap.

If her husband and family rejected her then she ended up in the city, like today, sitting on a sidewalk offering handmade bags and bracelets or selling her sorrow and loss and smile and understanding among friends and polite distant tourists afraid to look her in the eye. Later, she dragged it through night comforted by the fact it was a long way from her heart.

If your legs get heavy walk with your heart.

 

goodbye July

such sweet sensation
dancing down summer days
turning a page, turning a corner
tuning sensitivity's wisdom into

a person's inability to sit still
long enough
to sense or imagine or know
all the unknowing

known to produce
sharp yellow finch trills 
and thrills
in rain's retrospect

one dawn
a floating red flower