a.d. winans | li po


he sat beneath the trees
talking to the leaves
wine flowed into miniature glasses
of silent sound

intoxicated on its flavor
he tasted it like a brew master
gazed at the sky
spoke a poets dialogue
to the passing clouds
the red wine flowing
through his veins

his poems floated
down stream
calm as the aftermath
of a storm

poems swirling
swimming inside him
like a dolphin rises
in the heart of the sea

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