Monday, June 25, 2018

Kit Kelen #907 - in 5° of morning

in 5° of morning 

through trees
we call our smoke

each to an edge
far misted
and in a glory
first thing lit

no sun to stand in yet
creek's trickle
of skies days away

then it's on
up in high branches

and paddock at a time
day calls

hazy naked
cold birds graze

simply shafted
we arrive
it's only me to see

not even the blue
forever up

come cloudless to all here

tracks come to us
go on

and all of it rings silently
as the simple truth
I am


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