Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Kit Kelen #180


come to winter's windy middle
chairs are blown about
here's a new style for your hair

it's move your arms about
be windmill
or place the sausage
by the door

wallabies are in the hollow
grazing when I come – they go
smoke of the rise is my own fire
suggesting time to be inside

it's grey
and everyone sleeps in
under roof
or something fallen

let leaves prattle on
there's no one thinks
to flower now

the wind is taller than anyone
but a sun will stand above it all
if we can clear the clouds 


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