love people

"We call everything a river here."
                    --Richard Brautigan


there's a love parade
this sunday
beautiful blue and white houses
spill children into the street
like beads of happy colored glass--
music all over.

the trees are spring,
fall, and summer,
apricot angels
green yellow maples
all love people
two moons to a face
I think of a quiet
pebbled stream in this moonlight
and a younger woman,
like a single brush of ink,
dipping softly,
as the pebbled stream dips,
into winter, or untimed wild.