Thursday, June 29, 2017

6.29


light in window opposite unmade yellow and blue bed

shadowed pink roses above fence in right foreground


available correspondence, two and a half times that

is, kind of knowing from, let alone thought come to


fleeting meditations something like the wind, voice

so distant that it seems to be part of earth itself


grey whiteness of fog against still invisible ridge

line of pelicans flapping to the right toward point


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