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
Great imagistic poetry, A.D.
BZ