the sky is orange and blue and steam rising
geometric tops slice the tapestry
slowly, slowly
and above all, the place where all is down
if silence holds more meaning than good timing
why, anyone could build the trees
blowing, blowing
and after all, the violent meeting drowns
gosh she moves in all the wrong squares
holding and drifting by
must admire how little she cares
catching another’s eye
Finished: 5:13 p.m., Thursday, January 13th, 2011.
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