By Robert James Berry

I am looking at the green bamboo
The rain falling

In a steady thrum of peace
On the shining wet window.

Standing at the gate of my house
I shall wash my face in this rain,

Wash my toes in these warm puddles
Of the monsoon.

I shall stare into the still heart of the afternoon
Till it grows round with dreams.


Loss  | Vashon | Services | Art | Poetry | Store | Contact

© 1999 KotaPress All rights reserved.  ISSN 1534-1410
Please direct comments regarding this web site to