I think I just woke up. At least I think
I did, over to the right is a red barn
but I may have dreamt it. The language I learn
from the fog in the morning, the yellow and pink
color of the light. I pulled out another blank
page and moved the chalk. The flowers earn
the Sun, the wide and fertile earth turns
in an empty space, the stones that have sunk
to the bottom just sit there. Another moment
and the birds will come alive with quiet love
between the branches. I fuss to orient
myself with the hours, the extending grove
seems without depth. O she is the silent
love, the only spirit that may move!
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