Saturday, August 06, 2005


all the rocks in my pockets are yours

Today I went to my little Columbian restaurant
for Cachapas Venezolanas and a stranger sang me love
Ballads in Spanish. I bought a huge bouquet of basil,
chili peppers, purple onions. Everything was in a different
language and ached with sound.

The morning was alive
now every part of my body has felt it,
surrendered to it.

I have owned the day
and she has brought me home.

 Posted by Picasa

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Beautifully written~

My day was similar in spirit.

best,

ginger~