2382
7.189
9.vii.26
there
isn’t really a name for this
ekphrastic
for Ann Thomson’s 1983 ‘Pentaplain’
see a green field
moon gone under
drip fed rich once where the shovel
rain crosses it
all directions this
kept in a box for the mind to expand
there’s something built by accident
uninhabited calm
fuse lit
scaffold shape
the dark come round
road like a grief run through
a best analogy
the sky so patched to always fall
I think it almost means
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