Fifty-Four

Compassion III


a thin gossamer shawl
gently covers my vision
such that everything appears
beautifully sleepy

spirits are floating
a foot or two
above the bodies
we wear, wardrobes
rarely changed

crickets are singing
in a smooth, crisp flow of notes
and i think
i can hear the voice of
every living being
somewhere in this hum
that tickles the leaves