Monday, July 08, 2013

Sunrise

The twentieth goose is lucky
lit against the velvet moss
that cushions under-river
from summer's rain of light

*

The meticulous discipline
of my rising heartbeat
nuzzles bright and attentive,
guides dust and goslings

*

To a paraphrase of the sun
one day, ruined, diurnal--
winging an elegy for those
who die without signature


_

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what we are built for

in the days when the kids were smaller and my parents younger and they lived here  six months of the year                                   ...