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Yesterday I thought winter had given up
all its images: white worn out,
utter glut of neutral.
But today, weird
mitt-ruts.
Snowbank
etchings
from kids
dawdling
their hands
to school;
overhead another storm
isn't breaking
but is moving on:
the elm-edge and the cloud edge
slotting into each other.
As if the tree picked up
the sky secondhand,
and wears it―
a sapphire heavened hoodie
in the black and white film
of early March.
The,
expertly,
the elm-clutch
lets loose, disrobes.
A sliver of blue expands,
becomes a sluice, a gorge,
As if the tree picked up
the sky secondhand,
and wears it―
a sapphire heavened hoodie
in the black and white film
of early March.
[from One Thing ― Then Another, 2019, published by, and available for purchase at, ECW Press]
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