søndag 16. august 2015

To the lands without name or numbers, the wind blew down from other domains, the rain brought celestial threads, and the god of the impregnated altars restored flowers and lives...


From air to air,
like an empty net,
dredging through streets
and ambient atmosphere,
I came lavish,
at autumn's coronation,
with the leaves'
proffer of currency and---
between spring and wheat ears---
that which a boundless love,
caught in a gauntlet fall,
grants us like a long-fingered
moon.


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