Seeing as how a few people are in a tizzy about my communication as of late. I can’t call anyone when I have no cell phone service out here. Also, there is someone that knows that I don’t call so I’m really going to have to deal with it, but that will happen in a few. So, in the meantime, here’s a poem. And I’m using obsolete tech to write this, dial-up. . . wow.

Bloom and Seed

It’s as if something is planted
And then like seasons planned
As if the revolving planet
Doesn’t decide the present
Bloom or seedling of unpleasing
Decay or past death proceeding
In turn to both corrode or return to a state of marvelous things to be seen or forgotten or made plain.

Like a vase with no flower,
Like some brain contusion,
If the growth is the same,
If like a green flame,
If thoughts rippled when they came,
Then order and meaning unchanges until another perceives it.