ALL THOSE SPACES
It is again the time of the morning
when I hear the owl hooting - making
its daybreak noise above some shed
or garage. The light rises - today it
is rather orange - and arranges to
herald a sunrise that comes. So much
of this is for the good, so much
is for the many things, each
and every, about to unfold -
all those spaces which
must be filled.
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