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March 29, 2007 - A poem about Cosmicity


We have these evenings here
sometimes crystalline blue
sometimes like silver
sometimes like blonde
in pepper light
and we scurry
and we scamper
until it feels
there is less
to heave.
these evenings -
sometimes, filmset bright
halogen staged for shadows’ reach
pure lit fingers swooping -
down from old moon sighs.
Sometimes this air resonates,
sometimes, like finest sinewave glass
shaking over sheep-bed green
these evenings hear the fears
sometimes they will appear
to anyone who waits
for evenings here.


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