Up papers stacking, files racking,
Poems climbing the autumn wall.
Range beyond the monitor,
Feeding their imaginary.
Phrases. Open idea,
The bar of time
- extends – the arm.
Post, tweet, text
Tea.
Tea.
Between
Two and Three
Memory, a
Twice told tale holds
The breaths of the depth,
The depths, the blue-green sea,
Slipping softly between waves
Over the cresting slip that is me.
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