Sense or nonsense matters not; writing is the rhythm of the words.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
THE SCENT OF PEAR The scent of pear is everywhere; tempting from across the room; they are giving, I receive, tasting from the morning air. We, the pair in comfort close, touching in our marriage bed; you breathe out, I breathe in; we are both the space between. Need we any further proof that we are all one universe, breathing out and breathing in, the pair, the pears, the morning air.