Saturday, April 21, 2018

Kit Kelen #840 - in a pumpkin mist

in a pumpkin mist

this silver morning
cooler in the after fall

trees pale sketching
fenceposts for practice

so sing
from a pond
when - wings away -
all eyes lift
with this fright

come insects of another season
and we are otherworldly then

where every flower
speaks to seed
if only we'll let rot

now fire thinks of us
and all the corners call
thin disc to see for it's-not-moon

it's only then we're struck with
to see our works and days
a setting off for up above
where heaven's just

as clouds grow to their own confusion

now all the sun's collected
in a pumpkin patch come blue

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