2000
6.174
23.vi.25
midsummer no night
same boat an island is
cloud too
a sea of what?
in the grey light and the bright
close eyes
a tree grows green towards
and down as fast as up
come perch here, nest, sing
grub through the dream
will there be rest for these wings?
no one ever asked permission
it must be the year’s far end
nor beginning
the all night day
and the light all night
every waking an amazement
day ringing in our ears
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