BACK TO SHEILA FUGARD

Roots

Throw flowers

Grass to grace

Through skies

Of fire

Thongs of desire

Utter nothingness

Grass is greener

Sifting sands

Of the hours

Poets strip

In the sun

Disguising themselves

The blotted snow

Green bright

Chasing

Fast moving sun

Points of eyes

As scissors turn

When whetted

By snow of tears

Gentleness

A cage of

Shy making birds

Aspects of fields

Unfold

The manifest sky

Reeds fill the marshes

Distance

Flees and outrages

The lake

The beloved’s breath

Blows out

The candle of

Nothingness