Thursday, March 18, 2010

under blankets
in the morning, and at dawn
black, just black, I noticed
in the core of
some differing notation
"I can be near, I can," but yet!
A movement under ninth,
a drab harmonium,
or a dreaming among wolves?
Through sketched maps of a future colony
I saw
hands enwintered,
or ruins raised up,
or braids disassembled
all while drinking tea in the meadow,
which we knew
would grow and become a garden.

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