Modi's Monday
but this, green
after The Bridge at Maincy, Paul Cezanne
bridge like an echo on a
mount when kids were truelife was young, stones
kept secrets for time and
movement came in ranges
mountains made complete
picture stops, rushing to
beat the creek or pound the
beat into green spring
ushering in new year, though
now November, soaked Chucks
still bright with future of
possible, still far off
brook bubbles underneath
ice, acid training in winter
teems suggestions of Promise.
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