wind blows white wilds there and back mad egg whites whipped and frothing
no cobwebs here no cobwebs there clouds are gray duvets stretched then bunched
they have no end even where they begin to gallop no horses from the camargue they
but the wildly shod of desert dunes hills are moored today but sky is loose
though wide an electric jewellery airshow arcs not far away trees are running
they shake their heads and scream all move west faster than the sun
seasofme230815parallaxis
YOU ARE READING
body
Poetrymy personal favourites in one book. these all come from older collections. hardly any of the media belong to me
