When you get out into these
alder-graced creeks
Like French Ravine
On a summer morning
It begins to dawn on you
that time- as we project it-
is just that, a projexion,
a useful fiction of human culture.
Here in the warm dappled
shade
What projexion obtains?
There is only the trout-dimpled
flats, & the frantic wave
At mosquitos.
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