This poem peered early this morning. The muse strikes again! This poem is a poet’s poem, and a tip of the hat to one of my favorite poets, Rumi. Who is that says you can’t feel the sublime standing in a pile of number two…
Unentitled Number Two
Awe is write with the whirled
Surfing the chaos
Affront of me
And awe sow still
Standing in
Sublime feeled
Sow Rumi
Know better plays
To be
