Tuesday, September 15, 2015



just inside the breakwater sun startles
parallel oghams, yellows my vision, it
refracts to break down sand
into color blocks as i make wind
bedraggled fish hawks, a sat great blue,
the bridge empties traffic easily.
sea oats, salt-grass, giant cane outside.
we sit acute angles between us. they say
the way of the wolf is in conflict with the
way of man but i hear one behind us, as a
parachute follows drag racers, i hear your
blue prism before the osprey flies.

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