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.
Comments