A poem by Tony

A big rock lived on a mountain edge since
the very first April ever, balancing
there until love comes.

A beautiful scarlet flying thing
caught his eye as it fluttered by, a abstract
next to the green, grey or black flying things
that sit on the rock occasionally, adding a sober touch of balance
The rock waiting for love, knew, as you know, in this
muted time a little scarlet can dislodge our pale
scale of even.


But the world below the big rock was not
afraid. In mass they knew a little abstract scarlet, love, is better than a
green, grey or black, fear of, big fall, non balance. And also who knows
when a dark cloud will cover all and lose even
this our scale of even ...

Finis


May 27, 1979