Monday, June 4, 2018

6.4


cloudless blue white sky above black plane of ridge

sound of blue jay calling from branch in foreground


in this case touch, would be such a sheltered place

turned into orbit, toward visible sphere, describes


place stays place giving to word the force of being

that world as in Pollack I am in my painting or not


cloudless blue white sky above still shadowed ridge

lines of gulls flapping to the right toward horizon





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