Poem -
THE FOLDED THING
I folded myself on the earth
watching the trees
sway with each unseen brush stroke
tiny forbidden leaf
flirts before the mighty screen
tiny heroic bird
before the mast you fling
laughing at the serious folded thing
Flowering crowns
brief in your will
rust the golden folded thing
lakes in green mock the age
while living too bring
unused beds for that folded stretch
Ā folded thing
tried to reach
Ā held a throaty wretching crime
so much vacant wasted rhyme
upon such a folded time
now gone
beneath the flirting leaf
beneath flowering grief
the folded thing
went back to begin
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