quietly, if
I could,
whispered
max… max…
the other
edge sighs
maxine…
no echo as
Poetry
quietly, if
I could,
whispered
max… max…
the other
edge sighs
maxine…
no echo as
we are this
far, here at
the fold
our map
estimates
the scale torn
away,
(cell #4)
a friend
the other wish the wind knows
she’s
staid
so
long
aye
name
the
place
Sue
Hills
places
have their
place,
you know,
unless
you put ‘m
back
you only
leave
dust rings,
& some
times
bowls,
rolling
planet –
wise