WEBVTT

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This is called The Flower.

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As far as I know, what this
poem, little short poem too,

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is about is what it's like
to be inside a flower.

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What you see from inside out.

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It's Bill Matthews who has
such a discriminating mind

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in these matters.

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He's fond of calling me
the resident fuzz head.

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[LAUGHTER]

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And this poem will
prove it, I think.

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Inside the hood of a plant,
the width of an eyelid away,

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long, tendrily stamen
the length of ourselves

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move in the washed light.

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Trees, houses, everything, an
eye drop of the Earth's water.

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