Tags

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                                the echo of
                                a small box

                                through drops
                                down the window

                                to one side the
                                grey cloud to the

                                other the sunset
                                and the cold air

                                through the window
                                which won’t close properly

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

air wormhole: cloud
clouds wormhole: a maturity
echo wormhole: tag cloud poem VI – anyone’s eyes
grey wormhole: sitting up in bed s i m u l t a n e o u s l y
open wormhole: Jean Miller kissed Salinger
sunset wormhole: the strange mauve relief of / this burgundy-gritty encounter
windows wormhole: oh-pen too

 

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