808
patch
of wonders
first
crack at
then
redbill at the border twitch
vanish
in the hour
last
sun of it
should
there be water, sit
cup
hands
round
tin in tank
in
the forest lost of words
loose
leafed
of
course there is a rise of ants
days
telling out the rain
still
swim
and
tree is half the view
all
a stretch to begin
in
this skin
a
week of weather comes to us
we
learn the legends now
these
next extents of cave
are
my indoors
in
wisdom of all ages lined
and
halfway here by luck
by
luck alone
(the
comic opera)
I
acknowledge a sadness to the tree
this
will to all the world
as
if the winter were a fire
past
where the river ran
come
to a rise
hills
sweep away
to
be here as I am
watchful
and minded
well
past the not-yet
pond
for wingflit
all
ilk of creature come
visible,
not
as
in wallaby watching
the
walkers fluff a tail
in
all the dream-divided
yoga-ended
day
it's
Sunday still
with
afternoon
and
the great heat sinking
March
in
praise of primitive systems
circle
not quite
but
I improve myself with turning
and
fare the way just here
even
life was too perfect for us
so
now we know
it's
time to start
catching
the sky
I've been to that cathedral
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