816
two
poems
in
socks and tracky pants
clouds,
is it?
my territory
are they gone?
are we here to see?
some days leaning
misted in
a whiff was once
how a horse stood in winter
where a wardrobe flew
open head
scud through
how long can you look
till gone?
the
original solar collector
pumpkins up
you patch
you've had your rain
now take the vine
track soil
make map
to match the sky
now butternut
now shine
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