I Pick Up Words



I pick up words
as small daisies
on a spring field

careful to hold them
in small bunches
never as beautiful

as when first spotted
a memory of wonder
blushing as they close

around their meaning
covering the heart
shy of a truth near

enough for our dull spirit

to remember a note
or two






This poem is in the first volume of the “California Notebooks”. If you wish to get your own copy  click here


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