yesterday was spent
with a lovely sea-shell girl,
today must be worse
small city Twilight
of ecstacy and terror:
mist forest mountains
Apollo's returned
to shine on farmers and crows:
even more on poets
This little city
of trees, birds, cars and street-lights:
moss and silicon
Flowers are to poems
as wrenches are to sand-paintings:
gloried wastes of rhyme
