Date: Thu, 12 Sep 1996 08:24:56 -0400 (EDT)
To: Carolyn L Burke 
From: louern@accent.net
Subject: a panting limping crow and LEO shed some light

A panting, limping crow approaches

the paris haze is gone but near
the lingering minty of yesteryear

blossoms bloomed
backs sun burned
boats a float
and me,
back here.

a sip
a word
a coziness

the humidy keeps us alive as water does. Bringing us out of doors - together- as once we were. in one big basket, for only the very lonely to escape. the structures we build so out of place in the heat. the grass, like moss, grows exactly where we want it to, and the bushes designed. Now, it is the buildings that appear to be wild; not really following any evolutionary plan - popping up here, there, where we want them or have space to put them - and the bushes organized around them.

the heat bugs have heat exhaustion. they awake and signal the evening. quiet otherwise, the city hums in slow motion with them. everything surreal - or more real - as we must acknowledge our biology and sweat and turn our heads more slowly to conserve energy.

a summation of summer
a contest of conclusion

Let me quote:

"We are all so much together, but we are all dying of lonliness"

- Dr. Albert Schweitzer

"Boys and girls, today we are going to draw a tree." She goes to the blackboard, and she draws her tree which is a great big green ball with a little brown base. Remember those lollipop trees? I never saw a tree that looked like that in my life, but she puts it up there and she says, "All right, boys and girls, draw" Everybody gets busy and draws. If you have any sense, even at that early age, you realize that what she really wanted was for you to draw her tree, because the closer you got to her tree, the better your grade. If you already realized this in grade one, then you handed in a little lollipop , and she said, "Oh, that's divine". But here's junior, who really knows a tree as this little woman has never seen a tree in her life. He's climbed a tree, he's hugged a tree, he's fallen out of a tree, he's listened to the breeze blow through the branches. He really knows a tree, and he knows that a tree isn't a lollipop! So he takes purple and yellow and orange and green and magenta crayons and he draws this beautiful freaky thing and hands it in. She takes one look and shrieks, "Brain Damaged!" - Leo Buscaglia, 'Love' 1972

have a good one.

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