Writings

Reflection

Mirrored on water-glazed glass
The gray camera in hand
Captures an instant of red flitting fin
As red leaves in fall
Expose stands of winter woods

-For Hector 5/15/2005


Spring (inspired by actual events)

A bird
Now darting swifty on silent wings
Now scavenging scattered seed
Now poised on lofty twig
Now crapping on my head

-5/4/2005


Discovery

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree
And a small cabin built there 
Built by Yeats, not me

I read the 'Bee loud glade' 
But those are not my words
But Yeats', his labor mixed therein.

Yeats of his nine bean rows eats
I may look and dream
And someday own my own

But I may not eat his
Or, for me,
It is the scarlett 'P'

-Dan Buttrick, 4/25/2005

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