Photo Joel Philippe


It is soft

A flowing feel

Without movement


Pushes back

Into timelessness

Hypnagogic then not

Then again

Where it touched

No longer does

Back inside

Then out

Floating again

Small spaces

Compressed relax

Lengthening stretching

No will

Palms spread wide

Wells appear

Then fade

As palms

Slow rotation

Or is it none

A wave passes through

Or not

Can’t tell

There is no way to know

Or care

Being taken


Held from all sides

At once

It’s peaceful

More and more

As time slows

Then unhooks its grasp

On anything

Drifting in tide

Interest fades

Roll and pitch

Just a thought

Following others

Dissipating evaporating


I sleep in

Waving grass