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THROUGH COOLING ROWS OF MIRRORS The frozen cheeks of children spoon the air With mandrake callings Grim intracted products breaking Membranes off the waves. ANOTHER DAY IS COMING Through the breeze electric blueness Once and forever Daughter of the stone tomb Bearer of man the womb choosing Misty swirl – blossom of morning light Lunge in the cave of day. MIST OF SPIDER-BLEACHING SHADOWS Parade of the flower-bed veils Drop of ancient autumn Mistress of the pilot’s eye Spinning messages through trees. GRASP IT. GRASP IT Be seen above the bee’s quick turnings Make gold the apple’s greenness Silent churchyards in the blue and graying town Through peoples’ eyes the seven dreams come leaping A shadow of a letter from a friend’s dismembered hands Unbroken by the voicing of his echoes.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

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