Sunday, September 28, 2014


Cliffside. The ship gets safely home.
Bread left by the bluer shoals. Bent

of this painted earth. Clearing these
simple banquet on the hasten rudder.

Let pleasant the becoming unchained
onto the sun. Will produce amongst

such a dynamic hinge. Let claim the
spillway never happened. Brushing

the dream strand. Stood on a trusting
water and met by many replacement.

Had not yet remained from extended
reflective sea. Crooked furrow wave.

Her heroine been phased into paper
sails. Awaken to old leaves filling.

They are grafted on a canvas of days.
Further to be contained. The way has

cleared. So much night fell upon the
cave hole. So much cliffside made

of a circling sends. Did shifted past.
And even because when moon mends

there are waves of dark poured over
head, orb poured into an open sieve.

No comments:

Post a Comment