The Dear Trees in Time

Font the grey

clouds for golf

divots, the

golf be

Tween us.

grass certainly

grass, the

old town

and not new.

the poem in

exact in

these terms,

swaying of

grass or

leaves in trees.

grey cloud some

times clog

some fresh

news in town

they drove

to their rights

in reading

wrong, all

night theory

tracts of sp

ace called

minute by

minute just

to explain.

those words

in the poem

seem enough

but only time

tells.

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A List of Words

It begins with a scanning of light, a settlement of words. The lightly fracture of Bird sound begins in the office of seeing. Not sentiment but sense, as cool as Green in the Early days. Pasture resists nonpasture, no one Refers to none. All remains including nothing. Morning Is belief and there simply there. Tides go freshly to the point.

The Left of Intention

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The Citizen Would Leave

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Simple Theories

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