Monday, September 16, 2013

[sic]




So here we are,
curled up like a French sound
dreaming in twos or threes on
resplendent green
& realising that nothing is without meaning
Well, we are learning still
Looking at poems as people
people as poems
& that everything in between is song
I slipped into life,
suddenly

4 o'clock in sun's arms
& caught up in autumn's hair
so we twist an idea from air
where life & light intersect
Let the sun wash away all
our shame



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