19 June 2009

at the bamboo

it's called a bridle path but you must walk

for safety's sake along the mountainside

i've never seen a person who would ride

and many a laden donkey that would balk

of going that long road of grass and chalk

look to the left and death is a quick slide

in the warm rain and plenty bush to hide

your worthless carcass and no one to talk

the map is silent on who owns the place

nor does it hymn the brightness of the green

and noisy leaves in the sun's final ray

as all is captured in transcendent grace

eyes do not understand what they have seen

and mind is turning to the coming day

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