On Poetry in Maine
There was a poem forming
from the mood particles in me,
a Little Bang on our back deck.
But I shifted my feet and my
thoughts, the wind picked up
and molecules of hologram
eddied up and away on paths
never before or since traveled
in my backyard or any other,
not even on lawns by the ocean
in Maine where I imagine every
poem dreamed up not only gets
completed, but published in
The Lilac Times, then sketched
into blueprints for butterflies
who will dance around children
gathering cathedrals of seaweed
on beaches made of stars & time.
Jannie Funster
Posted over on her site Jannie Funster
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