This is an oval. It likes to consider
itself
as a converging paraphrase. Just
neighborly,
different languages operate on its form
installing
the syllables fe and male. A long hair's
alphabet,
including red particles, transmits a salty
taste.
The geometry of ovals might be welcomed
in
widening circles. Unstable configurations,
inherited by an
egg-like concept,
have a tendency to keep themselves
open to an interloper.
Does smell collaborate with a
particular season?
Searchers/borrowers evaluate the
ongoing
presence for an area
of maritime
perceptiveness
WR
autumn sun
on rain-bleached
mosquito bite
stems
draped across the cold earth
the about-to-crumble
colourless leaves
dull gold waiting for the cold
for
that white wet first snow
the one you want to walk in
barefoot
the one that infallibly brings back virginal
tramplings
that impatience for something anything to
happen
to notice to feel
expecting only the
unknown
blindly ignoring
the view of
the earth
DH
only the squirrel's nest
left behind by all the
leaves
that have fallen
and
on the white
wall
beside the Magritte still life
a child's
handprint MF
Yesterday
it hung from
the top of
the side
window
And held
all of winter
Now it is
a puddle
in a dent
in the walk
And holds
a small cloud GS
and me still caught on the edge of metaphor
@
tip of crocus
the dawn-pink glans
of a
young phallus
condoms the edging snow
circled by curled
tracks
of a winged creature
that has recently
been
designated
the state bird
light grows stronger
and
this glistening thing
moves from the shadow
of a
tombstone
JK
Days lengthen
turning up sand dollars, sand
pipers
Chords of the ocean stretch
towards a crescent
moon
gestating toward the oval-
ocular whiteness
of
shell, feather, foam
Beneath my bony feet
the sand's
minutiae
squirm to life MC
a gull flies
the alphabet of sea
distance
gathered in fog
dampness cupped in two
hands
the longing to live deeper
JR