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Saturday, 28 May 2011










Sympathies.


A cello bowed or dark sienna tulips

are moods.

Balsam creeps and hangs in the humid air.

A spice.

The mighty green and sour brine of seas

is prayer.

The red rock near the road and wind-shaped pines

are home.

A raven with a whitened wing at noon alights.

A shadow.

The broad-winged hawk that dives sheer from the wire

is stregnth.

Slow escalators that crawl from the subway’s tracks

are dreams.

The weight the plums the rounds of hushed eyelids

is lilac.



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