Saturday, October 13, 2018

Late Light

is the world less real
if I can't see it clearly
does it blurrily exist
or pale with custom
seasons less thrilling
the umpteenth time
or do I need to sit
in the sun with a pad
by the babbling brook
the prehistoric me
loves running water
dams desert creeks
a river system under
the backyard hedge
and the way brilliance
falls through shallow
rushing liquid crystal
over mossy rocks
shining in late light

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