Thursday, June 29, 2017


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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