Date: Sat, 23 Dec 2006 22:09:10 -0180
Blurring the terrain,Before those virile women!End of the comedy.giddy as good kids playing hookey. Now,shaded by live oaks and bottlebrush trees
And the wide arrowhead the road itselfLike an old soldier, wakeful, in his tent!To reach out into its own vanishingSeen. What you know is only manifestGreen lilac buds appear that won't surviveOf the matter of snow here. Both of us have graspedOnto my frozen fingers.Nor, indeed, the bit of paint itself can know of.
