Wednesday, April 06, 2011

In the drawing
I am not the charcoal,
not the chalk. I am everything else
the drawing is not. I am not
the line nor the space, the light nor the shadow.

I look into my moving mind and see
the charcoal and the chalk,
the line and the space,
the light and the shadow.

They lope along the blue landscape
where my thought's just been,
a moment of chance stored as experience.

Every day I turn inside out for you.

No comments: