One Single Impression: Circles
One day long ago
I tossed my ring--
That symbol of completion
Of some kind of marriage--
Into the soft earth under the fir trees
Along the stream down this long road.
My ideas of love sank into the soft earth
Where there bloom every spring
Planted very likely
By some diligent housewife,
Years and years ago
Though those flowers would not stay put.
Washed or blew or swam downhill
Through the soft springtime earth
Or perhaps they walked
(I am open to anything)
To bloom where they damn well pleased.
That's the circle I know about
I watch it take shape every year
As I too try to come up for air.
One Single Impression