Thursday, June 4, 2009

It's Not Poetry, Is It?

I wanted poetry, but none is flying from my keys right this moment. I considered an excerpt from a soothing Buddhist tract. Then I remembered a day more than a year ago, sitting amongst the golden warm woods of my favorite cafe. My notebook was open, the tea was steaming from its white paper cup. This song swept across the fragrant air and I told myself to remember the words.

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