THE MATTER OF PASTE
The morning's faint edge sticks
hard to the land, and the small
birds are chasing their suet. The
enormous flight is constant : both
squirrels and jays mingle with
juncos as the downy woodpecker
swoops. It's all recorded in time.
-
Each day carries its own standard
magnificence - nothing changing
for this foul month but the weather.
I stand up until some ice slides me
down once more. Sitting on this
earth is like sitting on the floor.
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