2365
7.172
22.vi.26
least of
days
midwinter smoke
and sun towards
pick up my pace
for Mercury’s sake
a wild warble
yet
ripple shadow
shown
pond steaming
and look to the
trees for breakfast
everything
solidest now
tin’s sharp
you couldn’t
kiss this sky
but look up now while it lasts
no blue’s as blue as this
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