GreenTea with BrownRice
the writing of clint s. rhubart
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
their sigh
brawny current
stirs sediment,
and drenched words
ascend to float up.
although
in a shadowy timber
beneath a moon-mist…
it is only the murky stream
that savors their sigh.
~csr
Monday, July 27, 2009
the breath of night
motionless i stand…
singing branches… sway and bow
with the breath of night.
~csr
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
your beauty
moon, sea, earth and stars
boast endless splendor… yet all
want, for your beauty
~csr
the most me
i love it at daybreak
when there are tidal pools
before the day's footstep
always a parking space
on the street
on the sand
only the bearing
of ocean and
cool misty saline air
the mirth of gulls
and the shush of the deep
at my unvoiced thoughts
it is here
that i sense
i am the most me
~csr
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
a time or two
they say “hope floats”
although
i have seen it submerged
a time or two
~csr
Monday, July 13, 2009
to each ear a voice
within each song played
is countless expression… and
to each ear
a voice
~csr
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
the world
sometimes small things seem larger
when up close.
sometimes big things seem to shrink
with some distance.
perspective can be deceptive...
each has their
perspectives...
deceptions…
though
is it the world that we see…
or what we see...
the world?
~csr
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