the yogurt sky covers my hand
before and on it
grasshoppers digest grass
it's quiet on this side of rebellion
when a woman fed up with withering
raises her hand
her streams of calm hair
carry trout beyond the horizon
and no one counts canaries
for the day was dead and would remain so
pet exchange in the store
river of night
searching for the bottom of meaning
Saturday, April 27, 2024
"Bottom of Meaning" | New Poem, 27.04.2024.
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