Monday, July 08, 2013


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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