Saturday, June 24, 2017


light grey whiteness of fog against invisible ridge

sound of birds chirping from branches in foreground

an unspecified number of, acquired and sold between

already resolved, deliver into the hands of, itself

I wanted to be free to hear whatever there is to be

heard who knows, maybe I’ll start singing watch out

grey whiteness of fog still against invisible ridge

white line of wave breaking across mouth of channel

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