Parading

The rocks are familiar and strange

There is so much to admire, to weep over.

I did a road trip

the rush and the well of life moving

I want to tell my friends how beautiful

here or wherever and even behind, beyond,

Perhaps you hear earthworms digging in the mud,

Sometimes, when the light strikes at odd angles

Somewhere a pipe organ plays the oldest, lowest sound from a fifty-foot pipe— ,

haystack, haystack, haystack. The only difference