Sharing an old chapbook of mine over on my ripple poetry blog.
Walking through
images of the mind
treading the pathways
of a dream
spinning in the world
created
by a moving thought
resulting from
a burning of fingers of the heart,
continues the wanderer.
Once journeying begins
it can never end . . .
intoxication has set in.
(c) June Perkins
From Shadow Puppets, p.8 This poem was written in my youth.
Gumboootspearlz 