Poem for Ken Taylor

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bubbling waves on a japanese
drawing hanging from a
hook thru the glass of a junkshop
window
green . white . blu bubbled flecked tipped
waves
in my mind’s eye . see them
bubbling on wind . blown . flown
up the shore
bubbling my thoughts
with the voice of a man who
read poetry on a sunday nite
and once before i heard him too
green . white . blu bubbled flecked tipped
waves . words . poems
he spoke them simply as
Whitman or The Bible . grocery lists
are also poetry
and wind and waves
the sea . his words
flecked & tipped
hi above the others
these waves bubbling on the shore
also in a print or maybe even on a drawing
hanging from a hook
thru the glass of a junkshop window.

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