Saturday, October 12, 2019

Speak to me, unbroken spirit,
twine leaves to helmet glass,
tar weaving on the ledge's cutoff,
lamps tilted by submerged chairs,
hills and their hammering seeds
around the woof of lonely rolling wheels,
shod light trickling into the canyon,
wires paved over and magnetic pebbles
stinger glued to the honeyed heap
plume saluting my nowhere mile.

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