Poems
The Green
Two bugs in the air
blink, chirr; in the fern
the yellow of a blue
blackens & is further.
I knew myself too badly then,
like colors in the night.
Not what wasn’t there
exactly, but more
all the wasn’t that was.
Two bugs in the air
blink, chirr; in the fern
the yellow of a blue
blackens & is further.
I knew myself too badly then,
like colors in the night.
Not what wasn’t there
exactly, but more
all the wasn’t that was.