Moss-sutured dawn spills —
heron’s wing fractures glass hush,
water remembers.

I wish that my life
could be a banyan tree, large,
massive, eternal, offering shelter to travelers, wanderers, exhausted ones, when lacking support and nourished inadequately
p             from the          p
o                trunk,            o
e            ­  poetry             e
t             would be          t
r          the prop            r
y         roots and           y
.          my support         .
.             system               .  
"""""".""""""""""""""""""""""""""."""""""
~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~­~~~~~.~~~~~