I dip my mind in the water. Sounding the sky bubbling poetry through it. Pine boughs shadow my poems. A spider climbs down from my cap to read my poems. My poems blow all over with leaves of Tu Fu and Whitman.
Clouds pass buds brighten.
The ease of grow- ing weeds, the joy of their perfection. I am thirsty but only look. The sparrow on the wall watches me watching him watching me fly away. In the garden squirrels quarrel. The blue air bathes a bluebird.