Page 36 - Interim 32.1 [2015]

Subtly worn, I tramp my way through
(while breaking).
My eye (a camera)
takes images
(throw the first)
He stands there.
A stone rolls
of every passing stranger,
all shadows from my eyes.
who can see the weeks
we carry home.
heather gray, ferry weather. Ships inherit the moon
Light enters
immaculate, clean.
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