Kit Kelen #1313

1313

not so cold as it should be

and having no one’s attention

at Markwell

towards the Myall

this morning

seven

by the time I’m up

everything steaming

each in a cloud

of his her own

we are warmer than the world

sheds and a truck shudder passing

so much tin to collect

we could open a sky

many are gleaming

our green in the drought

and this sunlight ours

everything here

and we persist

from each of the misted kingdoms

a wisp

and winter curclicue

means heaven

to its cloud