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Published September 21, 2005 at 1:34 p.m.
play my flute than write a poem--
those pure or impure tones
going out into the air,
those runs or stumbles
up and down some scale,
no need for thought,
no need for wisdom,
nothing for the mind to do,
just emotion, feeling, sound,
traveling on my breath
coming up and out of me
and through the flute,
directly out of me,
directly into you,
my breath saying all
that needs be said
by saying nothing at all.
From While We've Still Got Feet, Copper Canyon Press, 2005
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