what sound would surface near the sound
near the end of winter’s statement
the iced-over suns unmoved gulls
chase gulls for morsels of mussel
what sigh from that sharp air what would
we hear if I said no thanks to that junk
on the horizon if I could tell what
I hid so well do I wait for the cold
green mornings to split into petals the
color of what’s buried taking thoughts
I would have wasted but what would it sound
like opening my mouth the way I
want do I keep carving notes on sheets
of ice as herons hide their necks
Tag: gulls
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what would it sound like
to walk out on the soundgulls chase
gulls for a bitthat sound
breathing
needlesso I hope for green
through the still black
door to see color to
burst into bloom into
color burst and burstwhat thoughts I would have liked
putting them on a shelf orbut what would it sound like
opening my mouth the waythe white heron hides its neck
am I too latedo I keep
taking notes on sheets of ice
other animals 