The Hard Shoe A woman breaches the door of contentment and smiles with intent Nothing to be found she leaves the pear beyond the bench where birds feed How can a man feast upon an empty plate given by a maid with no feathered brush? No dust collected; it is certain a true man conceives of that witch brings only nonsense The hair of the rabbit sings in the wind of spiraling sensations Leaves are gathered by a yellow tool from withered feet How does the owl sing to badgers and how do crickets call? A woven basket full of whales tears; a limp by an able bodied man Birds swim in a lake of rabid shark; the pasture of beautiful seas shall man find emptiness Substance a memory. How delightful are the utterances of silence; a word absent Quantum, a stranger; the difference known. Heeded is the wardrobe of pleasance The wise shall know between the killdeer and the pelican.