1/
stripes of morning
sliver across wood floor
dream lore makes
a fresh idea
warm strands of thought
turn things
into the substance
daylight
2/
snapdragons litter
the walk
I think the thumb
green with diversion
an aversion
to the dust
3/
Pomona dampness
loses trill
informal frisking equals
safety
just in time
a path to you and your departed
fractions in the light
4/
her on-screen autumn
view is mine
so few of us
limber enough
to resist the touch
of balustrade
Sheila E. Murphy
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