Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Summer Chronograph: 79



Summer Chronograph: 79

On this seldom-breeze high desert, the Cascades...

blurry foothills too far to the west to ride a horse to,
you ask your ghost, Who're you really here with?
A few ashen-faced clouds skitter to the north.
A blackbird, weary-rotten choir boy, screeches.

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