Friday, July 13, 2012

Coming Home, Lake Vera

After days down freeways
I come home to frosty woodsides
Where a night of snow
Has graced every surface,
I can breathe again gazing at clouds-
I feel the blurred life of salaries & carshine
Interrogating this hidden quiet way
But I too sift like fresh snow
Through the aimless shank & swirl
To trace the tiny ledges of the unlatched gate

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