D.W.
Tearaway kite in the arms of the wind
how a whip cracks, its sail.
Without warning a glisteningÂ
fish breached the pliant wave
and all these shed leaves fell to memory.
There I cried for abandoned dreams
unable to gather them all.
Luminous messenger in the breeze
bright frisby passed to and fro
but speeds away now out of sight.
Shades of perpetual motion
the ineffable whir: a bicycle wheelÂ
I know not how to stop
spinning, spinning.