From the Book: Ever More Simple and Pure

If it is still,

I take pictures of flowers,
or throw the boomerang.

If breezy,
photos of running water,
or else I fly a kite.

My outdoor life
all depends on the wind.

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Planes keep flying over my kite.
We must be sharing the same flight path.

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The playing of music
without love for The Mother
is the greatest paradox ever uttered.

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Hey, little bugs!
I’m trying to take a picture.
I’m just doing my job –
and you’re just doing yours.

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