pink line of jet trail in pale
blue sky above ridge
red-shouldered hawk calling on
branch in foreground
forgotten here years ago, certain
after its thought
what he knew to be solid, weave of
aspects, contour
82 year-old mother recalling “Chinese
Chimes” as if
we were some sort of well-ordered
corporate venture
yellow red orange of sky above still
shadowed ridge
shadowed white wave breaking into
windblown channel
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