July 31, 2010

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I watch, clock-still,
the unfolded gesture,
the long arc of shadow,
with patience’s subtle qualms
and my struggle to outsource
the flame that demands assent.

I’m getting a feel for the downslope,
the slidy look that haunts the late afternoon.
I respond on friendly terms:
the skirmish finds me supine,
a shimmer of risibility
waiving my somber vows to the rain.



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