my passive friends, the egrets,
don't know i'm here
little white butterflies flutter
hello so near
come the egrets
welcome me back home
they're happy, too
sun is high
cold rain clouds passed
blizzards in Brooklyn
egrets stand and stare
water's clear fishes run
there's no there; only here
Han still flows north to south
motorcyclists continually use the bike path
only i have changed and grown
heavier and weaker in my bone
getting closer to where i'm going
2-17-14
