Daylilies grab the land in bursting moment, a kindly land grab maybe you could say. They have seen daffodils confine themselves to everything in the single soul brightness of spring. Daylilies in their then and following push the plenitude with ornate quickness. They play like ruffians but in burst. Bursting reminds the second, and time can't fill the cup. A time of blossom doesn't sync with time at all yet syncopation rides. Pastures of rain state the obvious, as do the willowy clouds above. Provinces of natural flowers return the gaze and look ahead. We are trying our instant love, they say or never even have to say. The garden congests for one last fruitful time and all the ensuing ends of time. Then, then we say once more. Once more is only just a smile, traditional as a kiss. The plenty sparks go deep with gloaming saturation. And there is there.
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.
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