Eastern Window

My eastern window
Splashed my eyes
With winter dawn

My supine moment
Lent me the freedom
Of a cloud borne kite

My ventilated world
Filled with clarity and
All pleasured possibility.

On rising, grounded
By the reality of flesh
I contemplate my captivity.

What did you go out to see,
A rich man in fine clothes?

My grudged acceptance:
A reed blowing in the wind.


JL March 13. 15:13