Tuesday, January 13, 2009

swinging forth

And so swings the sun
the wing tip
the car on the gravel
the day, forth, forth
to shadow, in each
mass, the thinnest of leaves
the invisible plot
Forth, forth, even
when it moves back
behind itself
the light
runs into the sea
as if depth contained
its meaning
in the stormy pelagic
otherland
grey upwelling flow
wandering




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