Midnight Milk.

Dead of night, on ribbon road,
This river, an ink black way,
Meandering surely, sights unseen,
Cept grey leaves glowing, soaked in last day’s light,
Water relents, lifting as oiled silk,
As a duck jettisons five calls to the air,
Slow arcs of arms, gentle moves to journeys end,
I never see the boat below, maybe it’s part of me, complete,
Or reach the tree, that one, with leaves alight,
Please let me, before I wake,
There’s always tomorrow, after midnight’s milk,
I’m dying to know where i’m going,
And wonder why I wake, not knowing, with wet feet
MOTHER & HER DAUGHTERS
The veins of this majestic leaf from a
Gunnera Mantica look like rivers
seen from 35,000 ft. I etched the names onto the glass
of waterways that run through every country in the world
Preserved leaf in box frame
ALL HER RIVERS
The veins of this leaf from a
Gunnera Mantica