Indias Empty Boxes.

Walking Home Today - The Smells of

Autumn.

In the Shop of Boxes, I became a Red Leaf.

Whilst I held a little Heart of a Cat

thumping - I ate a whole Home-made

berried Pie by myself

then carried on with the pumping of the

Blood -

Gliding, breathing in the Soft Waterfall

of the Dove.

I asked him 'Why he kept the Boxes'?

Emptied, Torn, Salvaged from the Local Bin.

and he told me that 'it was Nothing to do with

Me'

that they had Lived and Carried on

Sensitized to Grace in an Ugly Surrounding

- And I Understood that they were the

Boxes his Soul Lived in.

Three of us Standing and Treading

- Like Mice upon Nothing

From a Colourful Basket of Cultural Disagreements - I was given 'Red'

& Fled -

Step by Step

Away into the Ocean of Fallen Leaves

and Wet Mushrooms.