Its just about impossible,
To be original,
There is no orginality,
Neruda onced surmised,
A dove is a dove,
And just that a dove,

Though when I think,
Of a dove,
I feel or dream up a moon,
Or hear the instrumentals,
Of 'when doves cry',

There is no orginality,
The orginals were influenced by others,
Matisse, gauguin, van gogh,
Millay, parker,

Originality,
Is lost,
In the gardens and the clouds,
It sprouts and blossoms,
Like a flower, from the sublime,
With petals for wings,
Hymning to the same moon,
With different dames
Reynaldo Casison