By Don Kingfisher Campbell
The plants think
we spend so much
time moving around.
The walls know
too many secrets
to speak, only crack.
The blankets revel
in their memories,
stories told in threads.
The sky sings out
a constant revelation,
if we simply listen.
We are their favorites.
They enjoy our drama,
turning to our eyes,
Which tell the whole
truth inside dreams,
poetry through the hours.
There is no more to say,
just that clouds are related
to the electricity of looks.
Academy of the Heart And Mind 