endlessforms

dreamworld photographer

  • it, she, they

and the mirror
not her waking,
aching body showed,
but endless forms,
from feathered fractal
edges spilling out
a snowstorm
swirling silent
in her eyes


what miracle is this before my eyes?
that rabbit, who i watched lose ground each night
while hunted by that hungry, fiery fox,
and soon enough was caught, and finished off
who i thought dead, and have not seen for days
is born again this evening, look! she plays-

a scrawny little bun, but quickly grows,
each day she'll venture out a little more
and grow a little fatter as she feeds,
on fluffy straw, blue water, and white seeds.


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