I dreamed
a herd of elephants
walked through the house
into my garden
stopped and turned around
like a flock of blackbirds
changing direction,
they left the irony of ivory
in their path, they mingled
with the tusks of idols and
idolatry, they were auspicious
where they stood.

Sleepy eyes gaze from a distance
Faces so vivid
In seconds, are forgotten
Clothes change each day
Colors bright and sometimes gray
Faces painted
Smudge in the heat
Umbrellas in the rain
Like flowers in spring
Kites fly in the sky
Children chase dragonflies
Leaves fall; trees die
Seeds remain
A new sprout lives
New houses later repainted
Fancy gate now low hedges
Scenery is fast moving
But the sky remains unchanged...

March, we march because we must, oh we must.
We will never trust , you see?
Blind and numb, n'ere reaching thee.

The difference ‘twixt the comment and critique
is thought by some as trivial at best.
Both natterings delivered with some cheek
comparing hard won art to all the rest.

Midmost though there’s abundance to be found.
The difference ‘twixt the comment and critique
presents a bifurcation nigh profound,
for one is depth, the other rather weak.

A comment is didactics dealt oblique.
A self indulgent practice that inflates
the difference ‘twixt the comment and critique.
Analysis, our skill and ken donates.