A PASSING MOMENT

 

 

 

 

 

A flock of geese

dripped winged shadows

on the surface

of my arms

and face.

 

A moment of cooling,

a passing motion

washes darkly through

my hair,

then slips past,

continuing

over bushes and

onto sides of things

the images from heaven

spread long

throughout the day.

 

 

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