Opening My Book

Opening My Book by Eric Ashford

click here

Opening My Book

I had to write this poem.
For today I have not an idea in my head.
There is nothing in or on my mind
to cultivate into words.
My hands are too slippery to pick up.
I am a guitar in a bare tree.
Mouth open, eyes open
like a Zen monk-
or a deep water fish.
A sea and the sound it makes
as it is swallowed.
I am watching the grass grow.
It is green, it is seen,
it is a field of myself.
A poem with nothing to say
but it is still green
and worth reading.