this breath or the next or that
night bird over a lawn without
color some itch on some list
Tell me, if I walk the bridge
and nothing escapes do I
still plant a seed in secret?
this breath or the next or that
night bird over a lawn without
color some itch on some list
Tell me, if I walk the bridge
and nothing escapes do I
still plant a seed in secret?
and the streak of color sometimes seen as the day draws in unfolds perhaps a human sense of something just beyond the tongue, which, deep in the gray folds
half autumn color. Come take my hand in the ghost land and
magically repairs vinyl and the color of asters
noses almost touching the paper as they color frozen rain