10.viii.20
221
meanwhile, in another corner of the day
chimney
still in season
hail
its graces
nothing
one
hurry
to catch up
still
at it
find,
as in a window framed
me,
mine
doing
differently
which is to make
these winter words
fell into those
strings
came out this way
by kindling,
gathered for
wing lit
fur flown
work up a sweat
and find me, one
day, under time
sun done
in the open out
a field
up leafing
guilty not to have
been although
there are more
pockets now
this is all from
the turning
edge of the weather
where we are
and later
twinkle lit
by star
falling for a wish
dig here
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