2111
6.283
11.x.25
you won’t see me picturing
second crack at Dove Lake
from yesterday’s workshop
who can read
the forest?
who will
interpret the rain?
thicket in
which
magic dry
shoes
stream is
rushing at
it shingles,
traps what light
and lets it
fall
flight
appears in its feathers
these are
the steps to take me away
a throw of
fronds and green deep
tangle up out
of
and
distance!
here’s a
lake of laid paper
the wall of
ice carved stone beside
was and will
be water
a mountain
is always climbing
off with our
hats and look up
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.