soft-edged shapes

Soft-Edged Shapes

Soft-edged reality
Everything mysterious
In the wood, on a steep slope
A path leads down to the stream
I sat on a fallen branch
Encrusted with lichen and moss
I gathered wild bouquets
Of riotous yellow and red flowers
Two feet high
And took them back to the ward,
Soft-edged reality
There are no straight lines
In nature, but infinite pattern
Endless variety.

Christopher Baily
15 December 2001, morning (on amphetamine sulphate)

© the Estate of Christopher Baily