Friday, January 31, 2020

What is it between this rock and dog?

For now the space between are thoughts.

Fire and desire as water flows to fall.

My puppy sees a rock and my thoughts call.

For an iPhone picture to ensure the moment’s richer.

Capturing gratitude; moving rocks to stack.

A meditative attitude—nature calls this writing dude.

Poetically thinking how the trash here paints us rude.

For the dog’s nose it sniffs and the smell of ugly rips.

But a rock stands its ground despite us.

Step on it the dirt attracts us.

Beauty in thought follows trust.

Between my rock and dog.

Nothing much, but space.

Opportunity for a past.

Would you erase?

Wordplay near water.

Do you relate?

Rocks don’t.

This is fate.


in faith.


Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes because no one can 'read' him. And it's a great way to hide public thoughts...

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