21.x.20
302
in the after rain
which is a time of the
garden
out from under
how puddle
roofs steam
sway breezes
pale to
dismantle a clock for it
and stand the stillness
often unmisting
in a cure of roses
(that’s just an instance for)
bow and now
(suit of grey gone)
a headsup
all rise
on wings of a visit
this then the insect age
fresh as
other flowers invented
dense fret of opportunity
punctuation!
all telling
falls of a shine
crossings out, quotes
sing but not a chorus
first thought blue
here’s the machine
to throw shadows
in the after rain
leafy and wingsome
words and a world of them
making it up as we go
all of this light coming to us
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