Standing under the hope
of a small angel evening,
powdering mind and face
with sheer white,
he was drinking pure legacy,
water into wine,
spirit in his pockets,
twice returned to the present world
by a female's bedtime machinery
and a burning house.
copyright © lcmt
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Mapping Rain in Chalk
PoetryPalaeographical fables and onionskin poems from Lin Tarczynski.