Sunday requires a poem


She laughing
and the trees behind her
in mid-toss of their green hair—

the paper rectangle
burns away
from her image, leaves
her suspended
floating in liquid crystal,
the surface of a pearl
smoothed flat.

A black box
holds her face
which rises and falls
among a parade of others.

When hidden in darkness
she spends her hours
guessing a number
between one and zero.

The leaves tremble in silence.


2 thoughts on “Sunday requires a poem

  1. Lovely photograph created with these words. I like the idea of spending time guessing number between one and zero – infinite imagination lies between the silliest littlest things. Kiss you.

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