176
middling
year
shortest
day thereabouts
moon
just off full
I begin to forget
my hat
hip is a winterache
wings oblivious
on clear cold rounds
smell everyone's smoke
sun, still to clear the trees
shines through the whiskey grass next door
a moon made less
and pale with day
hours yet to set
the dew lies yet
and drips from eaves
and where everything's reflected
in pond this glint
ducks ride with pride
I must remember
my scarf
you must remember your scarf. and what a great image after all that bleak dripping landscape
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