26.ix.20
268
big blow
all day all night
and where’s it from?
pushes the stone so
a door comes open
with ghost
all this written till
a scatter!
it’s higher than
branches
somewhere the still
we go all flimsy in twig
flight
how does a leaf hold
on?
but most do
clouds sink rise
stay the sun
it’s come down
blur of the dance
here’s the map blows
over the street
we call this
September over the garden
now the orange
blossoms strew
soon crocuses will
speak
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