it is not the haze of the frost <br />or the fog, it is the core of the nut <br />that is important, not the brown <br />leafy involucre <br />but the one inside <br />that brown thing, it is the bliss <br />at the core of things, <br />the wish for good, <br />the touch that <br />sends the quiver in <br />my skin, all hazel, and filbert <br />and the hardness <br />which is soft inside. <br /> <br />please, do not say <br />any word.<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hazeline/
