Monthly Archives: August 2007

There’s a room I keep for you (reworked)

Posted on August 16, 2007 by heath quinn

There’s a room I keep for you in the woods near a spring, a mountain cabin with blued-edged corners, soft cream-colored walls, a lilac bush growing by the door. The door is never locked, though it has a key. The … Continue reading →

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There’s a room I keep for you

Posted on August 13, 2007 by heath quinn

There’s a room I keep for you, a study in the woods, a simple cabin in the mountains, near a cool spring. It has blued-edged corners, cream-colored walls, very soft, an old lilac bush outside the door. The door is … Continue reading →

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Unpunctuated (reworked)

Posted on August 12, 2007 by heath quinn

dark light frogs sing in the night of me tigers stroll in the crowns of trees my words slid from the strings of me lose softness in your strong square hands the hour is late tigers hunt frogs sing in … Continue reading →

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Unpunctuated

Posted on August 9, 2007 by heath quinn

in dark of night frogs sing tigers take long quiet strides you with strong square hands slide words like pearls off my strings meant only for you unstrung words lose the softness of me tigers hunt in the fields the … Continue reading →

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Perfect (open-ended)

Posted on August 4, 2007 by heath quinn

Two-thousand-meters-high icey-pristine. Soft, warm and welcome as mothers (can be). Powerful, valiant, just like my dad. Pear-sweet crisp-apple-ish classically bad. Noblesse oblige of the high-wired kind. A mind soaked in honesty, gulabi-style. Compassion in person for all that you meet. … Continue reading →

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Masala lines

Posted on August 2, 2007 by heath quinn

(now then now) I send my prayers on winds to clear a fog of mind all smiles to dry some very hidden tears a kiss to smooth that noble worried brow my gentle hands to take away the briers you … Continue reading →

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Mood indigo (original)

Posted on August 1, 2007 by heath quinn

in this quiet indigo place where lake slides over shore or shore’s dark hands reach into lake where rain surprises grass to beat it into reed and water-hyacinth in this indigo quiet cloud glances down and back with coyness as … Continue reading →

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