we're everywhere now
in the former houses
eating strawberries and cream
and towards evening it seems
the soul leaves its faint impression
on the constellations
the walk to the station takes less time
and you're uncertain what to rhyme
or if you should rhyme at all
you feel like you're all the Springs combined
and you can't stop breaking into flower.
or the clouds, in their vague blue stratosphere,
the fading worlds;
the wind set with small pearls.
mary angela douglas 9 august 2019
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